It Didn't Occur To Me
by Exes and Ohs. 2
Summary: When Draco tries to kill himself,Harry begins asking questions.Suddenly,quite by accident,Harry is thrown into Malfoy's world,where they have to save a teenage girl and her child.How is the child involved with Draco,you ask?R&R,and you shall find out--1/3
1. Prologue

This chapter is written in **Harry's Point of View**. Every other chapter will be Harry's, and I will keep you informed on who's POV it is. If I switch in the middle of the chapter (which will hopefully rarely happen), I'll tell you in **bold print**. 

Harry is very OOC in his thoughts, but when he speaks, I think he's very in character. Nobody knows what Harry's thinking, so technically, he can't be OOC. Can he? 

I'm not sure about Draco, though. JKR doesn't spend enough time on him to know. So, I think Draco is hardly OOC in this. 

**Prologue **

---------**---------- 

It never occured to me that someone could ever get depressed to the point of trying to commit suicide. I don't think it ever occured to anyone, especially people who lived in the same House as the person who had done 'it'. 

Suicide was a dirty word. Nobody likes to say it, speak of it, or think of it. If they think of killing themselves, they think they're sick, and need help for it. Everyone does it. Thinks about suicide, that is. In the end, most people chicken out and think of the life they can have, because _it will get better_. 

I remember 'that day'. It was a freezing cold morning in December, right before Christmas Vacation was supposed to start. Malfoy-Draco-had been acting _so_ strange the few months before 'that day'. I remember the initial shock that I had experienced when I had heard Draco had turned down the opportunity to play for Slytherin's Quidditch Team. He'd been voted as captain-which he tastelessly turned down (he had nearly taken my head off when I politely asked him in the hallway the moment I heard). The players for Slytherin were willing to give up their positions so Draco could play a position he was good at-he was a fantastic Beater. 

After the first few days of school, the Slytherin's slowly, ever so _slowly_, started paying less and less attention to the blond. The people in other Houses noticed the neglect, but couldn't care less. It was Malfoy we were talking about, you know. 

Then, on 'that day', December 16, before the train was due to leave for King's Cross, Blaise Zabini, a boy in our year, ran into the Great Hall. Shock, and fear, and anger was mixing together as one onto his face. He stood in the Hall for a moment, moving his lips, trying to talk, before he broke down. 

Professors Dumbledore and Snape stood up, their chairs crashing to the ground. Never had a Slytherin cried in sight of other Slytherin's, especially on a day that was supposed to be so joyous. It was the day we were to go home. Well, _I_ wasn't going home. Ron and Hermione were, and I elected to stay back and write my Godfather and finish a Potions essay I had to make up. 

Through tears, and coughing-sobs, Blaise managed to say the words that made everyone stare in shock at the boy. 

"Malfoy..he..he.." 

"What?" Snape barked, standing behind Dumbledore, who was kneeling next to him. "He what? Cursed you? Insulted you?" 

Of course, no one believed Blaise Zabini would cry over something Malfoy had said to him. 

Blaise shook his head, his eyes focused on the ground. Beside me, Hermione grabbed my forearm and squeezed, hard. She was getting upset, too. Ron was just staring, trying to figure out what it could be. Seamus whispered something to Dean and Neville, who both had to cover their mouths and giggle into their hands. 

"He tried to kill himself I think, professors," Blaise managed to say before falling to his knees and crying more. 

Snape's shoulders had squared. A few people who had been close enough (Hermione, Ron and I were some) to hear Blaise's revelation, stared in complete shock. 

"Where is he?" Dumbledore asked softly, putting his hand gently on Blaise's back, which shook with each sob. 

"I-I brought him to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey wants you to see him." 

That day had been awful. Truly awful. 


	2. Fragile

This chapter is written in **Harry's Point of View**. Every other chapter will be Harry's, and I will keep you informed on who's POV it is. If I switch in the middle of the chapter (which will hopefully rarely happen), I'll tell you in **bold print**. 

Harry is very OOC in his thoughts, but when he speaks, I think he's very in character. Nobody knows what Harry's thinking, so technically, he can't be OOC. Can he? 

I'm not sure about Draco, though. JKR doesn't spend enough time on him to know. So, I think Draco is hardly OOC in this. 

**Fragile **

---------**---------- 

_December 16, 1997_

"Professor Snape, follow me to the Hospital Wing. Professors and prefects, bring your students back to your Houses," Dumbledore said, but looked directly at me. He had straightened up now, and Pansy Parkinson was helping Blaise out of the Great Hall, crying herself. 

"What about going home?" Seamus muttered to Dean, who shrugged slightly. "We're still going home, aren't we?" 

I felt a little angry, but the initial shock was what kept me from yelling at Seamus. Instead, Ron answered, saying, "Of course we're still going home, Seamus. _We_ didn't do anything wrong." 

Ron was right, but it was the way that he said it that made Hermione slap his arm. 

"That wasn't nice, Ron! Malfoy is probably going to die!" 

"That's not what Zabini said!" Dean argued her, and before hell broke loose, I pulled Hermione and Ron away from the table. My heart was in my throat, and my stomach was at the floor. I hoped my face didn't show the way I felt. 

"Come on," I said quietly, and pulled them toward the Entrance Hall, where the Head Boy and Girl were beckoning everyone to go back and finish packing. 

Quietly, the three of us scooted out of eyesight, and into the corridor before the mass of people came. We didn't say a word-just walked. We knew where we were going, but that was a story for another time. 

Up the staircases, toward the Gryffindor House. We passed the Fat Lady, and continued down the long corridor until we got to a large picture frame of dogs playing poker. It was an unusual picture, even for Hogwarts, but it had a history, so we never questioned it. 

Our password had to be something nobody would ever guess, even if their life depended on it. We had relied on Fred and George to give us a good one, but in the end, we stuck with 'Spearmint Rhino'. 

Before we even closed the portrait hole, Hermione had burst into tears. She burried her face into my robes, since I was the closest (Ron was still closing the door), and she clung to the front of my clothes with her balled up fists. I didn't know she'd get so upset. 

"It's not fair!" She wailed, tightening her hold on the material of the school uniform. 

"What's not fair, 'Mione?" I asked quietly, patting her back awkwardly. Ron stared at her a minute before limping (he'd injured himself in a Quidditch Game we put on with other Gryffindor's) over to a table and grabbing a box of tissues. 

"Draco Malfoy! It's horrible. Why would anybody do that to themselves?" I could feel her makeup rubbing off onto my clothes. Great. 

"I don't know," I gratefully took the tissues that were offered to me, and wiped Hermione's cheeks gently. "Sometimes, people don't have answers for those questions." 

"Yeah," Ron piped up, sitting down on the couch beside the fireplace. The design for this room, I noticed when Dumbledore had first showed me, was much like the Gryffindor Common Room, except it was only a Common Room. "They croak before we can find out why they did it." 

"_Ron_," I moaned as Hermione started to cry again. Ron shrugged. "That isn't helping, and you know it! 'Mione, come on, I'm sure it isn't that bad. I mean, it's Malfoy we're talking about. Maybe it's just a prank." 

"It isn't a prank. Zabini wouldn't have cried, Harry, and you know it!" Hermione pushed back from me and wiped her face. "I'm getting out of here." 

We watched her stomp out of the room, slamming the picture shut behind her. Ron shrugged helplessly, and I put my head in my hands, rubbing my head. She was right-it wasn't a prank. 

"Ron," I turned my attention back to my red-haired friend. He was massaging his sore knee, and his jaw was set. "You shouldn't have said that." 

"Harry, I-" 

"No," I shook my head and stuck my hands in my pockets. "Ron, no. You _know_ what happened last year." 

Ron was silent, remembering what had happened the year before. Malfoy had "liked" Hermione. We (as in Ron and myself) decided against telling Hermione that we thought it was BS. They were partnered up for a History of Magic project, and since we aren't in Hermione's class, we didn't see how it all 'went down'. Apparently, through what Hermione said (and girls like to make somethings up), he began talking to her about 'girl things'. It made Malfoy sound really gay. 

They had gone to Hogsmeade together, and ditched us. Don't get me wrong-I'm _so_ glad I didn't have to spend the entire day, watching Malfoy make "lovey" faces at Hermione. I think he did it to make someone jealous. 

Whatever. 

It didn't last long. A month, maybe. Okay, it was longer than Ron and I had hoped it'd be. But the breakup wasn't bad. Hermione knew Ron and I hated him, and Malfoy knew it too. So they parted ways, and went back to the way it used to be. The insults about mudbloods were back, as well as all the other Draco Malfoy goodness. 

We missed it. 

"Harry?" Ron asked, struggling to stand up from the couch. "Can we just get out of here? This place is depressing me. Everytime something bad happens we come in here." 

I looked up from my feet, and nodded. "Okay. I'll help you finish pack." 

"Did you hear about the Canons?" 

Ron's question made me forget about Malfoy for the time, and our moods lifted as we talked about Quidditch. 

**---------**----------**

I shoved my hands into my pockets and watched the last of the Slytherin girls (coughPansycough) leave Hogwarts before the Entrance doors slammed shut, blocking more rain from entering the school. I think Snape did something to make the weather fit the school's mood. You know, Snape is like that. Moody, anyway. Dark, scary, and moody. He probably likes to play in the rain and mud puddles at home. Maybe that's where he was going to do when he got back from taking the Slytherin's to the train station. I'd like to see that. 

All of the Slytherin's had changed their minds, and tried staying back at school, to be with Malfoy. I'd do the same, if he were in my House. Snape, though, forced them to go on, saying that Malfoy wouldn't be out of the Hospital Wing until after Christmas Vacation. Maybe later. 

The _real_ reasons Snape didn't want the Slytherin's to stay behind were these: 

One-The only Slytherin staying behind was Malfoy. Even Crabbe and Goyle weren't allowed to stay back. I wondered if I had been in Malfoy's position, would Hermione and Ron be forced to go home? 

Two-Snape wanted to play in the rain without any witnesses. 

"Good afternoon, Harry." 

I looked up, and saw that I was still standing in the wet Entrance Hall. Professor Lupin tilted his head and grinned at me, but it was forced. Maybe he was trying to sneak out and play in the puddles as well? Make a date with Snape? 

Nah. 

"'Lo, professor," I said, and fell into step with him as we made our way toward Gryffindor House. "How are you?" 

"Tired," Lupin sighed, and if I looked hard enough, I could see the bags under his eyes. He looked healthy, though, and that was always a good sign. "Why aren't you with your friends?" 

"I wanted them with their own families. I can see them anytime. Besides," We rounded a corner. "I've got a lot of homework to catch up on." 

"Well, I'm glad you're here. I've been wanting to speak to you about Sirius and graduation." 

I moaned. "Hermione's been bothering me about graduation for _months_. It isn't even until next year!" 

"Harry," Lupin put his hands to his temples and massaged them slowly. His gray speckled hair fell into his eyes as he looked back up at me. It bothered me when he did that (which was a lot). Maybe he felt sexy like that. "Hermione is right to be bothering you about it. You really need to focus on it." 

"I really need to focus on school work as well. And Quidditch-can't forget that." 

Something was bothering Professor Lupin. I could tell. Whenever the Full Moon came up, he had this look. But it was only a week ago, so I knew that wasn't it. Maybe he had been looking for me, because maybe something happened. 

Maybe Malfoy hadn't made it. 

Fear suddenly washed over me in a huge, cold blanket. My hands clenched inside my pockets. "Professor? Is everything okay?" 

He knew he couldn't lie to me. It was a promise we made to each other at the beginning of my fifth year. We'd never lie to each other, and if we did, it had to be for good reason. We hadn't lied to each other yet. 

"Er, no, Harry," Lupin stopped beside his office door. How had we gotten here so quickly? "Look, step into my office. We need to discuss something." 

Oh God, here it came. 'Harry, I'm gay'. Or maybe it was 'Harry, look, I know you were hoping you could move in with Sirius soon, and you still can, but we're getting married. I know it'd be hard for you..'. 

No, it wouldn't be that. For one thing, Lupin wasn't gay. A gay lyncanthrope? I grinned at that. And for another thing-I've _seen_ him flirt with girls. It's..not pretty. 

"Sit down, please, Harry," He instructed, pointing to an empty chair. I sat. 

He pulled a chair up and sat down across the table from me, his jaw set. Maybe he was going to tell me something too personal to want to know.. 

"Lucius Malfoy and his wife are here. We didn't want any students around to hear anything that might be said. I was looking for you," He paused, and touched his fingertips together in thought. "Draco-he'll make it through the day. Or at least, that's what has been told. His condition is too critical still to move him to a real hospital, which is why Lucius is here. He's raising all sorts of hell in Dumbledore's office." 

I thought about what Lupin said a moment. Of course Lucius and his wife would show up. I had seen them earlier. Narcissa had been sobbing, while Lucius strode ahead of her, his head held high. It made Ron and I sick. 

"Harry? What are you thinking?" 

Lupin peered curiously at me. I must've been silent a while. I blushed slightly, and began to speak. 

"I don't know. I guess I'm wondering why Malfoy did it." 

"Dumbledore thinks something happened to him over the summer," Lupin sat back and eyed me. "Lucius is denying it, of course. Any parent would, when they're in a situation like this." 

It struck me as funny. Lucius Malfoy, in denial? Of course not. 

My amusement must've shown because Lupin stood up. "It's not funny, Harry! Dammit." 

"No! I wasn't laughing at that!" I insisted, standing up as well. 

Okay, so I was laughing at that. Sue me. 

"Harry," Lupin stared hard at me. "Dumbledore might lose his job over this. Lucius is saying he should've payed more attention. While, yes, we noticed Draco's behavoir had changed, and yes, we asked him in private if he was okay, Dumbledore didn't have to pay attention to him. He can't pay attention to every single student." 

"Yeah," I agreed, not knowing what else to say. 

"Lucius will find a way to get Dumbledore fired for this. I want you to stay out of the Hospital Wing, if at all possible. I know you have a tendency to fall and break a leg, but please try and be careful. And don't go into the Wing to see Draco, okay?" 

Dammit. Hermione made me swear I'd check up on him tonight. Dammit dammit dammit. 

"Yes, professor," I said, and decided to change the subject quickly. "What did you want to say to me? About Sirius?" 

"Not now," Lupin shook his head. "After supper." 

"Oh, okay," I shrugged. What else would I do after dinner? Probably nothing. "Well, I should go start my work." 

Lupin nodded, and didn't say anything else. He was probably really upset about Malfoy. Or maybe he was thinking about mud puddles and Snape. God, Malfoy's almost dead in the Hospital Wing and for some reason I'm thinking about my teachers being gay. What the hell is wrong with me? 

I turned to leave, when Lupin's voice stopped me. "Harry, if you ever feel like..like Draco did, or does, you know you've got your family and friends here to help you, right?" 

Suddenly, I felt very alone in the room with Lupin. All thoughts of Snape jumping in puddles with Lupin left me head. I turned to face my professor, who was shuffling papers on his desk. "I know, professor." 

"Have you ever felt suicidal?" 

I didn't like this conversation. Especially with good ol' Moony. 

"No," I shook my head. I meant it, too. "Well, I mean, we all have, I think, but it passed. I'm okay, really." 

Professor Lupin's face eased and he produced a small smile. "Good. I'll meet you back in here right after supper to speak with you about Sirius, okay?" 

"Yes, sir," I answered, and started to leave again. And, just like a few moments ago, Lupin stopped me. 

"Don't see Draco, Harry. You don't want to see what happened with him. I-" He choked, but I refused to turn around. I didn't want to see him cry. He cleared his throat quickly. "I don't want you in trouble, either, if Lucius catches you." 

I nodded and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the wall a second, and breathed deeply. Then, I made a decision. 

_I'm going to go see Malfoy._

**----------**----------**

Snape wasn't at supper. Dumbledore was absent as well. I suppose they were still speaking with Lucius Malfoy, but I honestly didn't want to see. I had heard McGonagall speaking with Professor Flitwick earlier, and caught the end of her sentence. 

"..cleaning out the sixth year dormitory tonight." 

Had Malfoy really screwed up this time? I wanted to know, and dammit, I was going to find out. Besides, Hermione wanted to know if he was okay. 

Hagrid was at supper, but silent and white. Maybe he felt guilty for ever having hard feelings toward Malfoy. I sure kind of was. I couldn't explain it. Maybe Malfoy didn't want people to feel guilty about it. 

Then again, maybe he did. 

"Pass the milk, please, Harry?" A small second year Ravenclaw asked meekly. He was sitting on my right. He had hardly spoken to me tonight, except to tell me he was the only one other than me at the school. 

"Oh," I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, and reached over to grab the pitcher of milk. I handed it to the Ravenclaw. 

"Thanks," He took it hastily. I bet he thought the pitcher would dirty my hands. 

Pfft. 

"Welcome," I answered and went back to picking at my food. I wasn't hungry. I wanted to get the meeting about Sirius over with so that I could sneak in to see Malfoy. 

"So then I said, nuh uh, no way girlfriend!" 

I thought it was Snape, and I almost burst out laughing. I looked up, and my jaw dropped. 

"_Sirius_? What are you doing here?!" I jumped up, my heart pounding. The chair hit the ground with a crash, and everyone who hadn't been looking up at us, was now. 

"Didn't Remus tell you?" He asked, and he enveloped me in a one-armed hug. I shook my head, too stunned to speak. I was happy, but agitated too. If Sirius was here, I couldn't sneak out. "Well, you and I are having a meeting with Dumbledore tonight. Er, we were supposed to, anyway, but considering what's happened, I'm not sure if it's going to work." 

My mind began to drift after that. Sirius said something or other, but I was suddenly thinking of a song that Seamus was singing earlier. And, when I had finally snapped back into reality, Sirius was standing at the doors, waiting for me. 

I righted my chair, blushing slightly, and briskly walked to Sirius, who had his arms folded across his chest. He didn't say anything to me, just smiled, and we started walking to Lupin's office. 

**---------**----------**

_I always hated Hogwarts at night. I was always afraid something would attack me when I wasn't looking. Ghosts didn't scare me, because they couldn't hurt me. But __other_ things can. I saw a vampire once. It didn't look dead, and when he smiled at me, I couldn't see it's fangs. 

Bleh. I'd been wrong. Thankfully, Snape had been there. Thankfully? No, I wouldn't go that far. But, okay, I hate this topic, moving on. 

I stepped over a pool of blood. Er, why was that there? Oh, well, no time to think about that. I had somewhere to go. 

Past the Fat Lady, and to the Poker Dog picture, where I said the password ("Peppermint Jacks"). Why was _that_ the password? Oh well, the portrait hole opened, and I stepped into the bright white room. 

In the middle of the room was a single item. Nothing else was in here. I stepped forward to examine it, when it jumped out at me. 

"Look what you've reduced me to!" 

"NO!" I screamed, backing away. A skull hopped up to me fro where it'd been lying still. Despite the fact it had no legs, it gracefully came up to me. It freaked me out. "GET AWAY!" 

"Would you like to see, Potter?" The skull drawled, and a pink tongue darted out of it's jaw. My eyes widened. 

"No!" 

"Aw, come on, Potty. You know you want to." 

The skull began to grow. It grew taller, sprouting a body, and then skin. The eyes grew back into the skull, and the gray colour returned to them. Silky blond hair fell into his eyes, and grew to his chin. 

I stepped back. 

"What do you want?" I asked, choking a sob back. Why was I crying? I didn't know. "I didn't do anything!" 

"Like hell you didn't," The now-grown Draco Malfoy stepped forward. He looked like I last remembered seeing him-healthy. No sign of depression, or anger, or much of anything. Draco Malfoy as I had always seen him-a prick. "You killed me, Potter, and now I'm going to kill you." 

"NO!" 

"But yes," Draco drawled, nodding. He waved his left hand in the air, and the white room darkened to black. I looked around, suddenly afraid of dream-Draco. Er, was it a dream? I hoped to Merlin it was. "Look!" 

And then, blood began to ooze down the walls. I opened my mouth in shock, too scared to scream. I backed away from Draco, who had begun to bleed from his eyes, nose and mouth. Draco's flesh began to turn a sickly green color, and I covered my nose. It began to stink in the room, of rotting flesh of course. My luck. 

He stumbled forward, the blood drying on his face, but not on the walls. It was pooling on the ground, a few inches now, and staining my shoes. I didn't care. I had to get away from Malfoy. 

Something shoved me from behind, and I threw my hands out, letting out a surprised cry. Before I caught myself on the blood soaked ground, Malfoy caught my neck with his hand, and squeezed it, hard. 

"Fuck you, Potter," He said, and spat in my face. I couldn't breathe, and I was struggling to get away. Malfoy just easily lifted me in the air with his one hand, high above his head. His grip was too tight, and I could feel my neck starting to crack as he gripped harder. 

He threw me as hard as he could, and I want flying..flying.. 

"NO!" I screamed, sitting upright in bed. I panted, and gripped my blanket, looking around the dark room. "_LUMOS_!" 

The lights in my dormitory came on. I was glad to see nobody was in there, and no blood was oozing down the walls. My breath came back to me after a minute, and I looked at the clock. It read 12:04. I had only been asleep an hour. Sirius had kept me with him all night while we discussed..what? 

Technically, I couldn't live with Sirius, because Fudge had to let him off the hook. He didn't trust me with Sirius alone, so I couldn't live in there. So, the next best thing to having me near Sirius, was to move down the street from him after graduation. There was already a house on sale and he was going to buy it for me for a graduation present. Cool, huh? Whatever. We also talked about Malfoy briefly-like, a minute-but Lupin didn't want to hear it. Then, Sirius and I went into the Poker Dog's room and he helped me study up on animagi. 

Yep, he wants me to illegally become an animagus. Damn, I've got good family. 

I think that Dumbledore knows about it, though, because in the front cover of the book I got about animagi, it said "Property of Albus Dumbledore". Go figure. 

I wiped sweat from my face and stood up from my bed. I needed fresh air. It was so stuffy in the dorm room, and I was the only one in here. Bloody hell. 

"Hermione," I said, then frowned. I forgot I had to write her about Malfoy. And since my nightmare, I wanted to see for myself that he was okay. 

I almost laughed. Malfoy had tried to kill himself. Yep, he was okay. 

Without really knowing what I was doing, I dug around in my trunk and pulled out my Invisibility Cloak. I slid on some shoes and a clean robe, then grabbed my map and descended the stairs to the common room. 

In the corridor, I put the Invisibility Cloak on and looked at the map. Shit. Lucius Malfoy was in the Hospital Wing with Dumbledore and someone I didn't recognize. Draco was in a seperate room, and another person I didn't recognize was in there with him. Sirius and Lupin were in Lupin's office, so I didn't worry about them. Snape was speaking with Poppy. Damn. It's after midnight-what the hell is everyone doing awake? 

"Hmm," I said, and began walking to the Hospital Wing. My curiousity was getting the better of me. I _had_ to see Malfoy, and then I'd sleep. Later. 

During my trip to the Wing, I narrowly missed Mrs. Norris and Filch, making their way to the Trophy Room. Fucking hell-it was like a party after midnight at this school. Other than that, the only other thing that bothered me was that Narcissa Malfoy had moved into her son's room, and had been there for a minute or so already. I was anxiously hoping she'd leave quickly. 

I stepped into the quiet hush of the Hospital Wing, and involuntarily shuddered. I must look ridiculous. Harry Potter, sneaking into the Hospital Wing at almost 12:30 to see Draco Malfoy, the hated Slytherin. Oh, well, there's a first time for everything. 

"I assure you, _Albus_, my son will return after he's recouperated," Lucius' voice wafted through the hallway. I stopped, and looked at my map. Narcissa was still in the room with Draco, so I had to wait until she opened the door so I could sneak through. 

"When will that be, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked, almost lazily. I could picture the elderly Headmaster smiling at him dangerously. I walked quietly so I could hear them better. 

"As soon as school starts up again." 

"Ha!" An unfamiliar voice said sarcastically. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm not sure you understand how serious this is. It's evident that he has been doing this for a while now. If he's been doing this without the knowledge of anyone, he's quite ill." 

"Are you telling me I'm a bad father?" Lucius asked, acid dripping from his voice. I tensed, biting my bottom lip. Lucius Malfoy was pissed. 

"Of course not, Lucius," Dumbledore sighed, and it made me shudder. I hated this discussion already. "We are saying that he needs to be noticed more. His act won't work anymore, because the whole school knows about it." 

"Then make them forget!" Lucius hissed, and goose-bumps went up my arms. I forgot that everyone else in the school knew about the suicide attempt. "My son will be back here soon, when he has healed. You have my word." 

"These students cannot forget something so devastating," The unfamiliar man said. Silence followed the comment, but it didn't last long. I imagined Lucius glaring at the two men in the room, which he was probably doing. 

I pocketed my map and took a step back from the wall. 

There was a rustle of movement, and heavy footsteps to the hallway I was in. Lucius stormed past me without a glance in my direction, and to a closed door. He threw it open. 

"Come, wife," Lucius snarled, allowing the door to hit the wall with a loud 'bang'. "_Draco_ will be home in the morning." 

I watched with baited breath while Narcissa stood from a chair she'd been sitting in. She leaned over and kissed her son gently on his forehead. Draco's eyes were open, and his eyelids fluttered when her lips touched his pale skin. She whispered something to him, and he nodded slightly before turning his head away from the doorway, staring out the window beside his bed. I suddenly felt guilty. I shouldn't be here, watching Malfoy at his lowest. It wasn't right. He wouldn't be here, if the roles were switched. 

"I'll be by in the morning to collect my son, Albus," Lucius said, walking away from the door. Narcissa followed her husband, and I rushed into the room, completely hidden from view under my cloak. 

Narcissa quietly shut the door behind her, enveloping the room in darkness. That was good, then, because I didn't want to see Malfoy. Just wanted to check if he was okay. I'm a good guy, aren't I? 

Ri-ight 

I walked over beside Malfoy's bed. He was still awake, staring out the window. His eyes were glazed over, kind of, and he looked dead. Honestly. His skin was sickly white, and his eyes were bloodshot, probably from crying. I didn't blame him. That's all I could see, though, since his body was wrapped up in the blanket. Good thing he didn't think anyone was in here. 

God, I just realized something. I had to pee really badly, and I couldn't get out of this room until someone opened the door. Dammit. 

"Hold on," Lucius said from the hallway, and swung the door open again. "I have to say goodbye to my son." 

The door slammed shut behind him. Draco's eyes closed and he winced, making me wonder. I watched as Lucius took a bottle of potion from the cabinet and pour it into a goblet. He reached into his pocket and quickly poured something into the drink, then recapped the bottle and stuck it back in his robe. I narrowed my eyes and furrowed my brow, wondering what was up. Draco didn't seem to care, since his eyes were still closed and his back was turned to his father. 

Lucius swished the goblet around a bit before turning around and striding over to the bedside. 

"Drink it, _son_," Lucius said, spitting the words out at Draco, who lied still on the bed. "I will see you soon, boy, and we will discuss punishment." 

Lucius stalked out of the room and allowed the door to slam shut behind him again. Draco's eyes opened, and a single tear fell from his eye. My chest tightened slightly at seeing Malfoy cry. He took a shuddering breath, and closed his eyes again, this time, falling into a fitfull sleep. 

I don't know how long I watched him. I had taken a seat at the far end of the room, just sitting there. Madam Pomfrey, and two other people would walk in and out of the room. Through the hushed conversations, I learned that the two unknown people were from St. Mungos. Made sense. Malfoy, being too weak to be moved (or so they said), couldn't go to St. Mungos. So, Lucius (or probably Narcissa) brought St. Mungos to Draco. 

It was almost three A.M. when I started to drift off to sleep. I could've left the Wing hours ago-but I _couldn't_. I don't know why. I suddenly felt obligated to sit here after seeing the way Lucius had treated his son. My God, six hours ago, I was thinking about my teachers being gay, and now I'm sitting here, watching my enemy sleep, fearing his father would hurt him if I didn't. 

"FUCK!" 

I'd been dozing. I bolted upright in my chair (I'd been slouching), and saw Malfoy sitting up in bed, cradling his left arm in his hand. He was wearing a tank top, and white bandages covered both of his arms from the wrists, almost to the shoulders. I couldn't see well in the dark-go figure-so I carefully stood up, and tip toed closer to Malfoy. 

He reached over to the bedside table, and turned on a lamp. Soft, yellow light filled the room, and I saw it. 

The bandages that were supposed to be white, where a dark red. It was his blood. I felt like gagging, but I swallowed it back. Blowing chunks all over the floor in front of Malfoy while I was supposed to be in my room wasn't good. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Malfoy cursed under his breath, cradling his left arm still. He bit his bottom lip in pain, then reached to the goblet on the table. 

He was going to drink something his father had made him. 

I was close enough to take two steps and hit the goblet out of Malfoy's hand. Malfoy jumped, surprised, as the goblet hit the floor and spilled it's contents onto the ground. 

"WHO'S THERE!?" He yelled, backing up away from me. "WHO THE HELL IS THERE?!" 

I backed away from the bed as quickly and silently as I could. I couldn't breathe. He knew I was in here. And he had almost swallowed that drink. 

Madam Pomfrey ran into the room, tying her robe quickly. I took my chances and bolted for the door, and ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, never once looking back. 

------------------------ 

I would absolutely LOVE notes!! 


	3. Belittle

This chapter is written in **Draco's Point of View**. 

**WARNING:** This story contains strong language (especially Draco's POV chaps) and to avoid hurt feelings, I've put this warning up. =) 

**Disclaimer:** Anything recognizable belongs to JKR. This idea came to me while talking to Shinks and reading the only GW story I've ever read, and it was fucking great. *huggles Duo and sticks tongue out at Jean-Claude and Dray* 

**Disclaimer 2:** Reese belongs to Shinks. Harley belongs to Shinks. Teely belongs to Shinks. I don't own anything except the plot. Er, guess that's it for now. 

This is dedicated to my betas:   
DM-n-HP, Shinks, and I KNOW I'm forgetting some people..*thinks hard*..oh well, this is dedicated to you, too! 

**Belittle **

----------*---------- 

I felt like absolute shit. There wasn't any other kid of word to describe the way I felt right now. I knew where I was, and I didn't _want_ to be here. It meant I was alive, and that someone had found me. 

I opened my eyes, realizing that someone was shaking my shoulders roughly. Pain shot through my arms, and I moaned, trying to get the hands off me. I vaguely remembered the day before-the hysteria, and waking up late at night from a nightmare. Someone had hit the goblet from my hand. Dammit. Pomfrey said I probably dropped it. _Bitch_. 

"Are there any belongings of yours you need to bring home with you?" 

My father stood above me. I couldn't read his face. There seemed to be some form of anger there. Maybe he was angry at himself? 

Hell no. 

"Well?" He asked impatiently. I just stared at him, feeling worse than I did a minute ago. The way he stared at me, disappointed almost, didn't help the fact that my arms hurt like hell. I didn't want to look at the damage I'd caused. 

I didn't have any belongings that I wanted to bring home. All that I had at school were the books and papers, and I only brought those home on summer vacation. 

"You had your mother worried sick," Lucify (my name for him; it made him seem more senile than anything else whenever he was mad at me) spat before turning on his heel. He strode to the door, and said over his shoulder: "Just so you know, son, our plan is almost past phase three. You will _not_ pull another stunt like the one yesterday to try and avoid it." 

Damn him. Damn him to hell. 

The door slammed shut behind him, giving me a moment to myself. Slowly, I pulled back the blanket that the Hospital Wing provided (flimsy _and_ worth a knut; I was definitely treated like royal family here) and stared at the white bandages on my arms. Er, well, they _were_ white. The top part was white, clean, but underneath, on the bottom, was blood-soaked. I wanted to throw up, but I hadn't eaten in days, and I couldn't remember if I'd eaten at all in the past week. 

My upper arms hurt. When I moved them, they burned like fire, and I imagined flames licking the wounds. I couldn't even think of what everyone else must think of me now, after seeing me like this. 

I rolled over onto my side and tried to throw up. My stomach flipped over and over, thinking about what I'd done. Nothing came up, since nothing had gone down, and I was thankful for that. I was embarrassed enough as it was. 

"Draco?" 

I swallowed back bile and rolled onto my back again. Mother was standing in the doorway, just...._staring_ at me. I knew that look. She used it on father many times, when she disapproved of something he was doing. It was usually on her face-but she never looked at me like that. 

"'Lo, mother," I said quietly. I didn't know what else to say. Fuck me if I didn't feel awkward enough as it is, but to see mother just staring at me like....like I was a bad person-it was enough to drive anyone insane. 

Mother broke. She rushed into the room, the door slamming behind her. She grabbed my shoulders and forced me up, and hugged me tightly. I couldn't do anything. It hurt to move my arms, so I sat rigidly in her arms, not knowing what else to do. 

She must've realized I was hurting, so she let go of me and sat down in the chair beside my bed. Then she stared at me again, unblinking, with all of her emotions in her face. 

I turned my eyes from her. 

"Son?" She asked, and reached for my right hand. I jerked it away from her, and gritted my teeth in pain. She brought her hand back to her lap, obviously hurt by my neglect. Sue me. "Son, why? Why did you do this?" I was silent. I honestly didn't have an answer. Well, I did, but it wasn't a good enough one, and I didn't dare tell her what it was. "Was it your father? Did he threaten you? Or hurt you?" 

I laughed bitterly, but didn't raise my eyes to her face. "Lucius didn't hurt me mother." 

"Draco," Mother hesitated, then reached for my hand again. I let her take it. "The baby..he's due soon. In a few months. You....you shouldn't do this, honey. You can't." 

Whenever in doubt -fuck the world. The world was a horrible place, no matter which point of view you take. The rich, snobby kid approach, or the Locked-In-The-Cupboard approach. No matter which direction you look to, the world is not pretty, even to the most gorgeous creatures. 

"Talk to me, honey. Please. It hurts me so much to see you like this. I-I don't know why you did this," She squeezed my hand, and I could feel my throat tighten. Dammit, why did I do this to her? "You have to stay strong. If not for me, then for your son." 

I hated those two words. 'Your son'. It was dirty, evil, and all around a pain in the arse. I let it go, because I'm a gentleman, and because I didn't know what to say. Was I going to start an argument with her, denying the fact that I was going to be a father? No. Denial is the wrong path to take in life. But hey, look at me right now. I was sitting in the Hospital Wing because I tried to kill myself to get away from fatherhood....and other things. 

"Mother," I sighed, and sank back into the bed. I squeezed her hand that was still holding onto mine. My father had told me once that lying was only telling your version of the truth. Lying made people happy. If you got hit by the Knight Bus, and someone asked if you were all right, you'd say yes, right? This was the same position, kind of. "I'll be okay." 

"I told your father you were too young. Sixteen was too young," Mother buried her head in the flimsy blanket and cried. I turned my head from her and stared out the window at the gray rain clouds. Crap, she was crying. 

What was I supposed to say? It's okay, mother, I love you? It wasn't going to be okay. Shit, it was far from okay. I coined the phrase 'Always 'n Forever....Fuck The World' because I'm seventeen and all this crap happened. God dammit. 

Luckily, a man walked into the room with a woman following him quickly. They both wore white jackets, and for a second I thought they were shrinks. Maybe they were, but my father wouldn't admit that I was crazy. Hell, _I_ wouldn't admit I was crazy. I'd admit my father was, though. 

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. I'm glad to see you awake," The man said, and waved his wand slowly over my body. I knew who he was, but, God-I wasn't that screwed up, was I? 

I watched the doctor light the tip of his wand and wave the light in front of my eyes. I didn't know what he was doing, so I stared at him for a minute before I followed the light with my eyes. 

"Slow reactions," The doctor said to the woman beside him, and she wrote it down quickly on her clipboard. Professional. He looked at me again. "I need to ask you a few questions, and then you can go home," He paused, as if waiting for an answer. Well, shit, I'm not going to give him the pleasure of speaking to him. "Right, well, how are you feeling? Upset, angry, tired?" 

I stared at him for a long moment, willing him to back down. He just stared back. This time, he was going to wait for an answer. My eyes flicked down to the crimson stained bandages. Some of the blood had dried and was a copper colour. And my arms _hurt_. This man was scaring me, too. He had grey hair, really, really grey, and it was curly and almost a fro. An old white guy with a grey fro. 

Gag me. 

He had to be like 60 years old, too. Okay, not that old, but damn close. What the hell does he know about..about being screwed up? This many never was screwed up, because he's still alive. Again, I must point out that he's old. 

"Well?" He asked, raising a bushy grey eyebrow. 

His bright blue eyes were staring at me curiously underneath the caterpillars that were bound to crawl away anytime. 

"Pissed off," I replied, and turned my eyes from his face and stared out the window to the darkened clouds outside. 

"Anything else?" 

Fuck, he was persistent. "I also feel like tearing out your throat. Is that a legitament answer?" 

The doctor just nodded. The nurse wrote something down on her clipboard. I wanted to rip out her throat, too, but you know how shit happens. 

"How are you feeling physically?" 

Hello?! Am I not sitting here in the Hospital Wing with gauze on my slit arms? 

"I feel great, doctor," I said, hoping he'd pick up on my sarcasm. This lying thing works like a charm, because he just smiled at me and nodded. 

"I see that," He replied before growing serious again. I hate him. "Do you feel like cutting yourself again?" 

Whoa, now it's really personal. What the hell is it to him? It's not really his business. Jackass. 

I folded my arms and just stared at the blanket. I didn't even know this fool would ask me questions. Maybe I should've had a better plan than this. Quick, Malfoy, lie your ass off. 

"No, sir, I don't," I said, trying to be sincere. I kept my eyes down, trying to look ashamed. Actually, I was quite ashamed of myself, but I didn't want to show it. I hurt my mother, and it upset me. 

My mother was standing behind the nurse. She was crying. Fuck. 

The doctor stared at me a moment. He knew I was lying. Double fuck. 

"Your father insists on having you at home, and he insists that you have scars," The doctor had a distasteful look on his face. I assumed it was because my father wanted me to have scars to remind me of how fucked up I am, and maybe that wasn't a good idea. Eh, well, Lucify likes to make things hard for everyone. "Mrs. Malfoy, could I speak with you, please? Draco -" 

"Mr. Malfoy," I corrected. How dare he call me by my first name? 

"Mr. Malfoy, if you'd like to get changed and showered, you may. Erin needs to change your bandages as well," The doctor didn't even offer me a smile this time. What a bully. 

"Do I have any new robes, at least?" I asked, looking around the room for maybe an outfit my mother or father had left. 

"Ah," The doctor shrugged. "Speak with your father about that." 

I'd rather sit in this flimsy hospital gown, but screw it. I didn't want to argue, and I sure as hell didn't want to sit in there with this man any longer. I think he was undressing me with his blue eyes, which were nearly hidden underneath the grey caterpillars. 

I started to stand up, but the nurse-Erin-ran forward and grabbed my shoulder gently. I shrugged her off without saying anything, and pulled myself up to my feet... 

And landed on my face. 

"Draco," Mother stepped forward, reaching her hand out. I struggled to push myself up, but my arms were shaking, and now my legs. My head swam and I was seeing black dots. 

"Lack of food, and the amount of blood he lost yesterday," The doctor explained flippantly. Fuck him. 

"I don't need any help, " I barked at the nurse, and tried again to lift myself. My bandaged arms stung and shook more as I managed to get onto my knees. My mother reached over and helped me up, despite my glaring at her. She was only trying to help. 

With the help of my mother, I made it to the bathroom door that was connected to the Wing. My legs were shaking horribly, and I was trying my best to calm myself, but I couldn't. I didn't think I could make it into the shower at this rate without any help. Mother seemed to sense my frustration, too. 

"Honey, maybe you should clean up later?" Mother suggested, and I tensed up. If I cleaned up later, she'd have to clean my cuts, and - 

Father stormed into the room. "Let's get going, Narcissa, Draco," He crossed his arms indignantly. Fuck him. 

"Lucius," Mother turned to him, and I could see tears in her eyes. God dammit, I hate making her cry. "Draco needs his bandages changed." 

"We can do that at the Manor. We cannot stall, Narcissa," He stared at both of us. Well, me, rather, with a look of distaste. "The guests are arriving, wife, son," He nodded once before turning and leaving the room. 

"Mother," I said, and realized it came out softer than I had intended. She had been staring at the door, but now she was staring at me, her face expressionless. "Are _they_ at the Manor?" 

It was a dumb question. I knew what the answer was before she even opened her mouth. "Yes, son. They'll be discussing your situation, and the next step. Come, let's go home where you can shower and Harley can change your bandages." 

I hated house elves touching me. I absolutely hated it. I hated it more than hurting mother. There was just something about their ugly faces and hands touching me. God, it made me was to puke everywhere. It wasn't such a bad idea. 

Instead of saying what was on my mind, I said: "Okay, mother." 

Hey, if I was going home where I could be alone, I didn't want anything else to go wrong. 

**---------*---------**

Unfortunately, as I've said before, the world sucks, so we should fuck it. After I managed to get back to my bed in the Hospital Wing, a wheelchair had been conjured up. The doctor, though displeased beyond reason, allowed me to go, with the promise I wouldn't do anything to myself. 

Pfft, yeah right. 

I had to be portkeyed away from Hogwarts. I would've been sick all over mother's "good" rug in the dining hall, but since I hadn't eaten, well, it's all good. 

"Son," Father said, pushing the wheelchair into the center of the ballroom. I felt the eyes of -cue dramatic music- the Death Eaters staring at me. I think they were just as ashamed of me as my father and mother were. 

I bowed my head, staring hard at my lap. Suddenly, I felt like shit for doing this to everyone else. So many people depended on me. Yes, they were bad people, and yes, they depended on me for the wrong things, but fuck a duck, they were _ashamed_. 

I wanted to die because of this. This Manor, and the people who practically lived here. And _him_. Can't forget _him_. I could feel _him_ staring at me from across the room without even looking up. God, I wasn't going to start freaking out. At least let me stay strong until I get out of this fucking room. 

Despite my pleas to want to be either invisible or dead, _he_ saw me. Slowly, he raised from his chair, and in a quick motion, he strode up to me in my little wheelchair and stared down at me, his red eyes empty of any kind of emotion. His whole face was like that. Emotionless. Hell, I was just glad he didn't care about what I'd done. One less ashamed person staring at me. 

"Boy," He said. The one word made me shudder, and a knot at the pit of my stomach began to form. "Why did you do this?" 

Dammit, I hate being wrong. He was ashamed of me, but not because I had almost died. I could see he wished I hadn't lived. 

I could feel the eyes of the Death Eaters on me, waiting for my answer. If you're ever in this situation, the best way out is a lie. "I don't know." 

He just stared at me for the longest time. His red eyes were narrowed, and his lips were pursed. His hands beside his body clenched into fists and then unclenched, as if he were resisting the urge to hit me. The sleeves of his dark robe hung down to the middle of his palms, and were wrinkled from where his hands balled the fabric into his fists. 

The Death Eaters were shuffling their feet, trying to be calm, but I knew they desperately wanted to leave. They were just itching to get out of this room, but hell, so was I. 

"You are a coward," Voldemort said after almost five minutes of silence. Everyone let out a relieved sigh. Was it relieved? The way he said it, though, was like he was just stating a fact. He didn't sneer or hiss it, he just said it as if he were talking about the fucking weather. 

I hated it. I felt even worse than I had when mother was crying over what I'd done. Shit, shit shit. I knew he was right. 

"He is more than a coward, master." 

Always rely on Lucify to get his word in. 

"Indeed," Voldemort stared at me again, and I saw his eyes flicker to the bandages on my arms. He didn't say anything else about it. "Onto why you are all here," He turned and began pacing the length of the dining hall. Shoulders sagged, as did mine, from the eased tension. "The girl is seven months pregnant. Lucius, has she been disruptive?" 

All eyes turned from me to my father. I couldn't look at any of them, trying to be neutral in this conversation, though I really did want to know how she was doing. 

"She has not been as disruptive as the first few months," Father explained, and I could hear him tapping his wand against the table. "My wife has kept her company in these cold months. I haven't gotten involved with it. My wife has insisted women should be warm, well fed, and kept company in the last months." 

"Draco," Voldemort stopped in front of my chair again. Slowly, I looked up, feeling my heart in my throat. I swallowed, but kept my face hard, not wanting to break. No, I will not break in here. "Have you seen your wife lately?" 

"No," I swallowed again, screwing my face into a sneer my father used when talking about mother. 

"Have you written her?" 

"Father told me not to," I said truthfully. "He said that she did not need my support, therefore I keep to myself. She is not permitted to write letters to anyone." 

"Pity," Voldemort turned his back on me. Fuck him. He didn't feel pity toward her. I was probably the only one in the room who felt guilty about....about _everything_, hence why I'm stuck in this wheelchair with bloody bandages on my arms. 

"Master," Father stepped forward, beside my chair. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, and wanted to throw up on his dragonhide boots. "The girl wishes to see her husband." 

I had hoped I could avoid her this Christmas. Now _that_ was a pity. 

"Alone?" 

Father nodded. 

"Very well. The boy seems to need to be around others' who have sunk as low as he," Voldemort shot a glare at me. I shrunk in my chair, but didn't lose the scowl on my face. 

The room was getting too warm for me, and I could feel my heart about to beat itself out of my chest. God, god dammit. I wanted to get out of here, and go shower and sleep, and then..then I'd think about what the hell I was going to do. 

My head began to hurt. It was a dull pain, but strong enough to piss me off. 

"We are going to discuss this plan, now," Voldemort started, then looked at me disdainfully. "You can go now. I wanted to see for myself what filth you've become." 

I should've spit on him and gave him a nice one-finger salute, but instead, I scowled. I was starting to feel sick, and honestly, I didn't want to suffer a beating or whatever he had up his sleeve. 

Harley, my house elf, had been standing by the door of the dining hall. He hurried over and, with great effort, began pushing my chair. I should've helped him, but I was too damn worn out. 

Yeah, that's it. 

The whole way upstairs, all I could think about was her, us, and myself. Shit, mother was right. I was too fucking young to be doing this. Father had forced the baby issue; mother had forced the marriage. And my only way out was death, wasn't it? Death wasn't something you can just....come back from if you wanted to. Hell, most zombies don't even like to be re-raised. 

Which brings me to another point. Who the hell took me to the Hospital Wing? What the hell were they thinking, that I was pretending I wanted to die? That I was joking around when I cut my arms up? Whoever it was, I swear to Merlin, I was going to tear apart with my hands. 

My bedroom was, for the most part, bare. High ceilings dominated the room. At night, when I was a little kid, I'd stare up at the dark ceiling, and wonder if there were any vampire bats up there, waiting for their moment to strike. Bats _had_ been up there, but they weren't vampires. Still, I hadn't slept in that room for a year. 

The four poster bed was large enough to hold four Hagrids, and then some. I hardly used it when I was home. It was just..too big, and now, of course, the memories were too strong. Whenever I was home, I slept in the adjacent guest bedroom that had a smaller bed that could only hold two Hagrids. Yes, _only_ hold two. 

Curtains, thick ones, hung on the bed. They were white, making the almost completely black room look inviting. Those curtains were absolutely great. Mother had them special made for me when I had a phase where I stayed up all night and slept during the day. Good curtains kept the sunlight out. 

I had dark oak furniture that was decorated with small dragon statues and drawings. I didn't draw them, because I suck. Instead, father had paid a generous amount of money to different artists to draw them up. 

I had flags in my room decorating the stone walls. They were written in old latin, and they once belonged to the original owner of Malfoy Manor. He had hired a witch to make him these flags, hundreds of them, and paid to have protecting charms placed on them. Somewhere along the lines, I think great great great great great great (etc) grandpa Malfoy had pissed the witch off, because the protection spells didn't work. 

Bastards. 

Mother was sitting on my bed when I was wheeled into my bedroom. She looked relieved that I was the way she left me. 

"Harley, draw a bath for my son," She instructed the elf, who gladly ran to the adjacent bathroom and immediately started the tap. "Draco, you look ill." 

"How is Cerise?" I blurted out, then snapped my mouth shut. I didn't want to start the conversation with her, but hell, I really wanted to know how she was doing. 

Mother smiled at me softly. "Your Cerise is doing fine, Draco. Has your father allowed you to go see her?" 

I nodded, and turned my eyes to the stone floor. I wasn't going to feel like shit about this anymore. No. The cutting had been a one time thing. Cutting only started because I felt bad about Cerise. No, I wasn't going to feel bad for her anymore. 

"That's good. You should see her after your bath," Mother stood from the bed and gracefully walked across the room. She knelt down in front of my chair. Her fingers touched my cheek gently. "Honey? She really is okay. I know you've been worried about her, though you don't like to show it." 

"Does she know?" I asked. My voice came out hoarse and it sounded like I was going to cry. Shit, I wasn't going to cry over this. 

Mother raised my face so I could meet her eyes. They were filled with pain and love, and....why the _fuck_ did I do this to her? 

"No, baby, she doesn't know. We left it up to you to decide if you wanted her told or not," She let out a shaky sigh, and I did too. "I love you, Draco, no matter what you choose to tell her." 

A tear rolled down my face, and I hastily wiped it away before more shed. I turned my eyes from hers. 

"I need a bath, mother," I said softly, blinking back more tears. 

Mother just nodded and wiped her eyes before striding out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I sighed and wanted to cry, but I held it back, because Harley entered the bedroom. I could smell the faint aroma of the bath waters' perfume and felt a little relaxed. 

Without another word, Harley grabbed my wheelchair and pushed me into the bathroom, keeping the door slightly open in case. 

**----------*----------**

My arms hurt so much when the water and soap had touched the open wounds. Harley had put new bandages on, much to my dislike, since his ugly little hands were touching me. The pain had dulled because of the pressure, but now it was itching like crazy. Oh well, can't have everything your way. 

I'd been forced to eat, and thought I'd throw up, but I'm a good little hell raiser, so I kept it down. It wasn't much, either. Oh well, you have to learn how to eat sometime. 

Lucify had arranged me to speak with my Cerise. I didn't like to call her 'my wife', but what was I supposed to call her? The woman who my mother forced me to marry because she didn't believe in premarital sex and wedlock births? No, my Cerise sounded better. 

At 3:30 that afternoon, I'd been bathed, dressed, and fed. I really wanted to sleep instead of confront Cerise. Really, I would. But it seemed kind of rude, considering the circumstances. Ri-ight. 

A heavy man, probably a wannabe Death Eater (as I'd never seen him before today), stood his ground in front of a large oak door. His hands were clasped in front, and his shoulders were squared. The mask he wore looked too small, considering his build was quite large. He might've passed for Crabbe or Goyle's fathers, if only this guy had been smaller. 

"Malfoy?" He asked. His voice sounded hoarse, like he hardly ever used it. 

I should've played the stupidity game with him. You know, 'Malfoy, who the hell is Malfoy?', just to stall. I really didn't want to see Cerise. I decided to humour him. "Yeah, I'm Draco, who're you?" 

"Guard," He replied with a grunt. He moved aside and pushed open the door so Harley could push my chair through. Shit, I looked like a gimp. Oh well. 

Cerise was sitting on a regular sized bed, like the size of my bed at school. Her brown hair was pulled back, revealing her still pretty face. She was just as beautiful as I remembered her to be, and more pregnant than I had thought. 

"Draco," She said in her french accent, and stood up quickly. The door shut behind me, and I was alone. The house elf was outside with the Death Eater, and I was inside, with my wife. "What happened to you?" 

"I have been sick, so I haven't eaten. I passed out at school yesterday," I said, the half-lie rolling easily out of my mouth. 

I noticed the silver chain around her neck, carrying a gold ring. It was simple; probably very expensive, but at the same time, quite cheap. Wedding bands don't come cheap, but the plain ones, like the ones we'd received, were an accretion. We both had identical rings-gold with a latin protection charm, much like the flags hanging around the castle. Since I wore my ring on a chain as well, and nobody knew of my marriage, I hardly wore it anywhere but to bed. So far, the charm had worked on the ring, protecting me, but who the hell wants to murder someone in their sleep? It takes out all the fun. 

"I've been wondering if you'd show up. Your mother told me the other day you'd be staying at school over Christmas Vacation," Cerise licked her lips and dropped her gaze. Her hands were rubbing her large belly, and I had to resist the urge to tell her everything. It'd only upset her. 

"Shit happens," I said, balling my fists in my lap. I continued to stare at her, because if I didn't, I'd break down. I had to be strong. If anything, I wanted to be alone in my room, where I could depress myself about how awful my life is. 

"How can you look at me?" She asked, and looked back up into my eyes. Her eyes were full of tears. Shit, shit, I wasn't good with comforting people. 

"Why wouldn't I look at you?" 

"I'm fat." 

Shit. What the hell do I say to that? "It isn't that bad, Cerise." 

A tear fell from her eye and she turned her back on me. Fuck. So much for me being subtle. 

I wheeled my chair slowly toward the bed. "Cerise, really, you know what I meant." 

"No, I know. It's hard for you to understand what's going on. It's okay." 

What was I supposed to say? I love you? No, it wouldn't work for two reasons. One, I don't say shit like that, and two, I didn't love her. She was pretty, but what I felt wasn't love. I'm seventeen for fuck's sake. 

"Don't cry. I can't handle it right now," I pleaded softly. I didn't need to see her cry. Change of subject. "What do you want for Christmas?" 

Startled by the change of subject, Cerise looked up at me. She looked like a lost kid. "I-I don't want anything." 

"Cerise -" 

"_Don't_. Please, Draco," She grabbed my hands and squeezed. "Don't. I've got my baby, and now you'll be around for Christmas. That's it." 

She dropped my hands and rubbed her bare arms. It was cold in the room. Father hadn't put a heating charm in here. 

I sighed and suddenly felt ashamed of myself, even more than I had earlier. She was freezing in here, pregnant, and probably upset that I wasn't there for her. I, on the other hand, tried to kill myself because of her. She had it way worse than I did. 

"Happy Christmas," I offered quietly. I didn't have anything else to say to her. 

"You-Know-Who has chosen a name for our baby," Cerise said, sitting down on her bed. She drew her thin blanket around her shoulders and stared at me with sad eyes. 

Crap. It was probably some name like Stanko or something. Did I even want to hear it? The look on her face was telling me it was bad. 

"What is it?" 

"Hunter Solan," She answered, and dropped her gaze, staring at the stone floor. Her feet were bare, and probably frozen. I felt like such an ass. 

"That's not so bad," I leaned forward in my chair. I was telling the honest truth. "I like it. Hunter Solan Malfoy. It sounds good." 

Cerise nodded a little, but didn't look up at me. "I like it, too, Draco. Really. But....but _he_ chose _our_ child's name. Shouldn't we be able to name him?" 

I wheeled myself forward, closer to her bed. It used to be my bed, when I was five, but I had complained because it was too hard. Now Cerise used it, and she was pregnant. I was _the_ biggest ass in the world. Honest. 

"Cerise, you knew about this from the beginning. This is his heir, therefore he can name the baby." 

"_Draco_," She said sharply, looking up at me with wide, terrified eyes. "This is not his child! This is ours! This is mine!" 

Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and she burried her head in her hands and began to sob. I did the only thing I could think of. I placed my hand on her stomach. I could feel it kick under my hand, and suddenly, I wanted to stay. I needed to say something. 

"What do you want to name the baby?" 

Boy, was I killing this conversation or what? 

"Teague," Cerise answered, her voice soft. "Teague Ryan." 

Before I could say anymore, the door opened, and Harley hurried in. 

"Master Draco, it is time to go, sir," It squeaked. Bastard. 

Cerise had pulled her legs onto the bed and was now curled up, the blanket pulled tightly around her stomach. I felt bad. Guilt was something I couldn't cope with. When I'd lied to my father once about hiding a faerie I'd found in the garden when I was six, I begged him to punish me. Now, at seventeen, I cut myself to not feel guilty. Look what that led me to. Upsetting my mother and House-mates, making me feel more guilty about things. 

"Bye, Cerise," I touched her bare leg softly, then allowed Harley to push me out of the room. 

I had to get out of there. 

**---------*----------**

----------------------------------------- 

There are words in here that my spell check added that probably don't sound right in here..I'm sorry for the problem!! 

Should the rest of the story be in POV or no? 

This chapter was twice as long as chapter one, and I decided to cut it in half (making chapter four the old 2nd half of this chapter)..sooo yes.. 

Thanks to my reviewers! 

Ashie: I'm glad you liked the POV idea. I didn't know how many people would go for it or not. And this story is story one of three (aka the first part of a trilogy) and the other two stories may be slash, but not great stuff. You'll see why in the future.. 

lilshampoo: I'm really surprised so many people like this! I'm glad YOU like this! 

Arwen: Well, when people are talking..eh, I dunno, POV is kinda tough to write. Oo, and you want the Draco Dormiens series? o_O If you email me I can get it for you, otherwise I don't want to pull it up, because I'm really furious at a lot of people from that site at this moment.. 

Me: YAY! I loved your review =) Also, thanks for the reviews for the other Chapter Three! This story is one of three (hoorah..) so the other two will be more slashy (meaning this one won't have slash much at all). If there is any slash in this story, it'll be intended, but other than that, it'll be as straight as possible. I make up for my lack of slash with the angst and suspense later on..mwahahaha.. 

DMnHP: I can't believe schnoogle won't let me submit. Fuckin..*sobs* god damn beta's and all those irritating peoples..*sobs more* 

Spaz: This story won't be slash, but it's part one of three, and the other two might have some slashy scenes (aka Draco's upset and Harry comforts him, and kisses him? I'm not sure). These stories are going to be really..well, angsty, and too much will be going on to have an actual relationship anyway. 

jay: I'm glad you're interested. 

Shinks: Bonjour ma amie. *huggles Asher and Jean-Claude and sticks her tongue out at you and Teely* 

The Slayer: Ty for your review! 

candledot: I was really hoping I'd catch a lot of people with the beginning. I'm glad I did. 

JadeDragon: I've outlined all of the stories that will be in this trilogy, so I'm really excited about getting this off the ground. It'll be awesome! 

Blizzard: Yes, you probably reviewed on fictionalley. I went to post this today (after I waited nearly 2 weeks for a beta to get the chapter to me, and still hasn't >.CrystalHorse72: If you cried in the first chapter, shit, just wait until I really get going.. Also, I have put your story in my fav places (along with about 100 others ¬__¬), so when I get around to it, I'll start reading it. Too much stuff going around right now..bleh. Also ALSO! That story title "You Don't Need To Bother"-isn't it from a song? Yes! It's by Stone Sour (I answer my own questions a lot) I love that song =) I'll make sure to read that one, too. 


	4. Rivalry

****

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Draco, the professors, or other characters in this story except Cerise, and the merpeople and future characters that I made up. 

**Disclaimer 2:** Anything recognizable belongs to JKR. This idea came to me while talking to Shinks and reading the only GW story I've ever read, and it was fucking great. *huggles Duo and sticks tongue out at Jean-Claude and Dray* 

**Disclaimer 3:**Reese belongs to Shinks. Harley belongs to Shinks. Teely belongs to Shinks. I don't own anything except the plot. Er, guess that's it for now. 

This chapter is written in **Harry's Point of View**. 

******NEW!!!:** This chapter and chapter four will be the last POV chapters. The reason for this is it's hard to write in POV, and I LOVE this story too much to let it die. Starting at chapter five, more action and more plot switching to get you guys involved more. Mwahahaha.. 

Harry is very OOC in his thoughts, but when he speaks, I think he's very in character. Nobody knows what Harry's thinking, so technically, he can't be OOC. Can he? 

I'm not sure about Draco, though. JKR doesn't spend enough time on him to know. So, I think Draco is hardly OOC in this. 

**WARNING:** This story contains strong language (especially Draco's POV chaps) and to avoid hurt feelings, I've put this warning up. =) 

Thanks to my beta's for beta-ing most of this chapter! 

* * *

****

Chapter Three

Rivalry

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and I wanted desperately out of the castle. Rain pelted against the window while I sat in the dormitory, packing enough clothes for the next few days. I was, afterall, spending Christmas with the Weasley's tomorrow night. Ron wanted me to leave earlier than that, but Dumbledore had denied the request. He'd needed me to help Snape and Filch comb out the Slytherin's dormitory. Snape didn't say anything to me, or to Filch. I hadn't seen him speak much at all to anyone. I think he was still pissed at Malfoy. Or upset about it. Same thing. 

An owl began tapping at my window, causing me to look up. I shook my head, standing from my bed, allowing the Transfiguration book I'd been leafing through to fall to the floor. The room was empty, sadly, so when I opened the window for the dripping tawny owl, I was thrilled. I hadn't done much today, except spend breakfast with Professor McGonagall, discussing animagi. She wanted the students to start studying up on it, because after the break, we were going to begin the process of learning about animagus. I'd been let down in that discussion, though. She'd been quite clear that I didn't seem like the type of person to have an animagus form, and that I shouldn't feel bad if I wasn't supposed to have one. A bad start to a not-so-great day. 

"Here," I said to the owl, picking up the towel I'd used earlier after my shower. I dried it off, then brought him over to Hedwig's cage and set him on the perch. 

I turned my attention back to the dry letter the owl had carried. Someone had put a drying charm on it before sending it. Well, I knew who the 'someone' was. I just liked to seem confused a lot. It's a good public persona that I'd grown up with. 

_Harry-_ The letter read. 

_I know ye'v been busy aroun' the castle. Care for some tea? _

Hagrid 

Nice note. Honestly. 

I kind of wanted to go see Hagrid, but at the same time, I wanted to go and speak with Professor Lupin. Not like there was anything to talk about. I mean, nothing else was going on, right? 

I pulled on my rain cloak and brushed the hair from my eyes. I could've avoided this altogether (brushing my hair from my face and trying to tame it) by shaving it all off completely. But could you just _imagine_ the looks of horror, and the many letters from _everyone_ in the world when they saw what I'd done? 

Surpressing laughs, I tenderly picked up the owl Hagrid had used and brought him to the window. I could've chucked him out the window, but considering owls fly, that wouldn't have been much of a bloodbath. Or much of a show at all. So, lazily, I placed him on the ledge of the roof, and shut the window quickly. 

In the corridor, I was walking beside the windows, staring out into the rain, when I saw _him_. I froze, and stared, not believing my eyes. 

Professor Snape was standing outside, drenched. He was just _standing_ there, his hair plastered to his face, dripping down to the ground. I grinned and watched him a moment. 

I bet he was playing in the rain. 

He turned his back to me, and knelt in the muddy grass. His knees sunk into the ground, and he flung himself onto his chest, and began crawling across the yard. What the hell? 

I decided it was just a bit too weird, so I continued my descent to the stairs. Hagrid would probably see Snape wiping his ass on the ground from his window, so I'll ask when I get to the hut. 

I managed another glance at Snape before I reached the door of Hagrid's hut, dripping wet. Snape was on his stomach on the ground, digging around in the wet soil beside the Forbidden Forest, muttering to himself. I had to supress the urge to laugh as I turned my back and knocked on Hagrid's hut. 

"'Arry," Hagrid opened the door, glanced behind me at Snape, and rolled his eyes. "Come on in. Care for some tea?" 

Although I was cold, I didn't trust Hagrid giving me any tea. Against better judgement, I said: "Sure, Hagrid," and peeled off my dripping cloak, spreading it out beside the fireplace. 

Hagrid busied himself with the tea, muttering something under his breath. I caught the words 'death eater' and 'killings' before I eyed the half giant suspiciously. 

"What's up, Hagrid?" 

Turning his eyes to me, Hagrid sighed. He handed a cup of tea to me (the cup was chipped nearly everywhere) before sitting down in his oversized chair. He waved at the bed, indicating I should sit down across from him, which I did. 

"I dun' know where ta begin," Hagrid started, and looked uneasily at the floor, scraping his large toe against the wood. "So, I'll jus' say it. 'Arry, when Yeh-Know-Who took yeh that year, did you catch any of the Death Eater's names?" 

I think my face paled at the thought, because Hagrid tried to take it back. I lifted my hand slowly, to stop him from talking. Oh, I remembered the names; I'd only dreamt of killing them every night (well, not _every_ night) since it happened. But saying the names was different. 

"If you asked me," I started, and rubbed my bare arms in thought, "I could tell you if I recognized the names." 

"There is this one that I'm sure of," Hagrid raised his eyes to mine now, and he seemed angry. "Is that Lucius Malfoy one?" 

"I'm not sure," I hesitated, and began to think. I could trust Hagrid, but if it put Draco in more danger, then I wasn't going to do this to his father. 

"Nobody will listen ta meh," Hagrid sighed, shaking his head. "How about Avery?" 

"Yes." 

"Crabbe?" 

"Right." 

"Creevey?" 

Creevey? The hell? 

"Um, I don't think so," I flashed Hagrid a grin. "Colin and his brother are in Gryffindor. If their father was a Death Eater, wouldn't they be in Slytherin?" 

"Tom Riddle's mother was in Ravenclaw." (A/N: I'm just guessing she was, don't sue me if she wasn't) 

That made me stop and think. Could Colin Creevey's father be a Death Eater? Wasn't his father muggle? What the hell? 

"I think you're wrong, Hagrid." 

"What about Percy Weasley?" 

"_Percy_?" I outright laughed. I couldn't help it. "Hagrid, Percy would never do that." 

"Are you sure?" Hagrid asked, and his expression made my laughing cease. "There are witnesses who saw him. Mind yeh, those witnesses were eleven and spoke a different language, but-" 

"What are you saying?" I was starting to get angry. He was saying Percy was a Death Eater! What a bitch. 

"I'm sayin' be careful at Christmas with your buddies. There could be an attack anytime now, yeh hear? No one is takin any precautions with yeh kids (I was thankful he didn't say 'you'), and I don't want to end up with another one of mah students gone." 

"I'll be careful," I stood up from the bed. "Nothing is going to happen to me." 

"You ain't invincible, 'Arry." 

I grabbed my cloak that was still drying and stormed out of Hagrid's hut, slamming the heavy door shut behind me. How dare he suggest Percy was a Death Eater? How dare he say that Mr. Creevey was one? He didn't know. Ugh, he _didn't_ know. 

I knew, though. 

**||----------**----------||**

"Are you _sure_, headmaster?" Professor Lupin asked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. 

"Positive, Remus," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "I believe Harry can take care of himself for a few days." 

"Headmaster -" 

"Remus, it is only for a few days. He will be under the care of the Weasley's, safe. If you had a problem with it months ago when the subject had been brought up, you could have said something. You did not say word one to us until now." 

"WE HAVEN'T HAD A PROBLEM UNTIL NOW!" Lupin exploded, and I backed away. He was really pissed off. 

When I had come back from Hagrid's hut, Professor Lupin had found me packing in the dormitory and instantly forbade me to go away from Dumbledore's protection. And, well, here the hell we are. 

"There isn't a problem, professor," I said quickly, although I'm not sure why. "Honest." 

"Don't talk right now," Lupin glanced at me, then turned his attention back to Dumbledore, "Headmaster, you understand the position I'm in." 

"I understand Sirius is concerned about the whereabouts of his Godson. I also understand that he hadn't denied Harry to spend the holiday with his friends." 

"Why is Harry here right now, then? Why isn't he at the Weasley's house?" 

"Because I wanted to stay here," I took a step back from Lupin. He was making me angry, too. Why was everyone acting weird? "You know, with you, professor. I figured we could talk about graduation, and all of that." 

Lupin turned and faced me. He stared at me a long minute before sighing. "You don't understand, Harry. Just go back to your dormitory and pack your belongings if you must. Go, leave me, I get the point." 

He was joking in the last bit. I could see the faint smile on his face. But he obviously wanted me out of the office, and I was gladly going to leave. 

"Ah, one thing, Harry, before you go," Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked around the desk to stand in front of me. "Before you leave tomorrow morning, I'd like to give you a gift." 

It was an odd thing for the elderly man to say to me. He liked things to be a surprise, and was quite secretive. When he'd given me the Invisibility Cloak, he hadn't signed his name on the card. He's been hush-hush about a lot of things in the past, so it was no surprise when I stared at him incredulously. 

"It'll explain some things for you, Harry. It would be better if I gave it to you in person," He gave me a knowing smile before billowing back to his chair. 

"Okay, professor," I licked my lips and turned to the door to leave, when Professor Snape entered, dripping water onto the floor, with Filch behind him carrying a mop and a bucket. 

"It isn't anywhere to be found, Albus," Snape began to pace the length of the office, unaware of Lupin or myself. Or maybe he knew we were there, but he wanted to show off his hott body. 

Ah, hell no. Bad images. 

"Have you asked Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked, rising to his feet again. 

"No, " Snape shook his head, water dripping from the long strands of hair. "No, sir, I'm not going to." 

"I'm fairly certain Hagrid has an idea where it is. If you just asked him, I'm sure he'd give it up." 

"Potter, get out of here," Snape turned to me, his face twisted in rage. Quickly, I skirted out of the room, and before the door shut, I heard, "YOU TOO, WEREWOLF!" 

Fun day. 

I waited for Lupin to come out of the office, and when he did, he was surprisingly all smiles. "Harry, let's go down to Hogsmeade for some butterbeer." 

**||----------**----------||**

"Two bottles of butterbeer, please." 

I was sitting with Lupin in the Three Broomsticks, trying to warm myself up. In my pocket, I had enough money for Christmas shopping and extra to buy myself something. We hadn't gone anywhere yet, because it was incredibly crowded in the streets. 

Lupin turned back to me and searched my face a minute before sighing. "Is something wrong, Harry?" 

The question didn't really surprise me. I'd been waiting for someone to ask me before now. 

"Not really, professor. Why do you ask?" 

"Your grades have been dropping," he frowned at me, and leaned forward in his seat. "You aren't angry at us for some reason, are you?" 

"Us, as in you and Sirius, or 'us' as in you and the professors?" 

"Both." 

I shrugged. "Nobody has made me angry. Well, besides Snape." 

"Same old?" 

"Right." 

Lupin pursed his lips and didn't say anything else until our butterbeer came five minutes later. We sipped the warm liquid thoughtfully for a moment, looking around the Three Broomsticks. It had been decorated for the holiday, with enchanted christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, and snowmen walking around the room (they were enchanted, of course, not to melt). There was a makeshift stage on the opposite end of the room where a group of dancing snow-lizards were performing. 

Ri-ight. 

"I spoke with all of your professors, and Dumbledore, and they agreed with me when I said it's getting to the point where outside training would be very useful to you," Lupin took a sip of his butterbeer, keeping his focus on me the entire time. "It took a lot of persuading, but Sirius agreed to it as well." 

"Snape even agreed?" I asked, not even bothering to keep the surprise out of my voice. "Why would he?" 

"Dumbledore had something to do with it, I imagine," he replied, his voice rising to talk over the growing crowd. "What do you say? It'll be training in darker areas than we'd normally cover during classes. And it will be Saturday and Sunday afternoons. Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and I will teach you our ways." 

I knew Lupin was joking with the 'teach you our ways' part, but at the same time he was serious. I didn't know what the hell to say to him. Lord knows I wanted to do that, because I needed the extra training. It would be just like old days, in third year. 

"Yeah, that would be great," I managed to say before a loud eruption of cheers and laughter made it hard to hear. Lupin put a handful of money on the table before he waved me toward the door. 

I followed him outside, which was slightly quieter, but not by much. 

"Hey," Lupin took a few steps forward and folded his arms across his chest. I followed his gaze and grinned. 

"Snuffles!" I ventured forward and began petting the black dog. How many people do you know who get their jollies by petting their Godfather? Not many, I bet. "What are you doing here?" 

Snuffles just tilted his head to the side and wagged his tail. I smiled and looked up at Lupin, who was staring down at Sirius angrily. Lupin's eyes moved to the left, and his they widened. I looked in the direction, and felt my blood run colder than it was. 

Draco Malfoy was standing in front of a large window, staring up at _the_ most expensive comforter I'd ever laid eyes upon. 

"I'm going to talk to him," Lupin said, and began walking toward the Slytherin. Snuffles glanced at me, and I shrugged, and we followed Lupin over to stand behind Draco. 

"Oh, hello Draco," Lupin put on a fake smile, trying to sound cheerful and surprised. It was only last week that Blaise Zabini had been hysterical because Draco had tried to kill himself. 

"Hullo, professor," Draco muttered, turning around to face us. He glanced in my direction for a split second before keeping his attention on Lupin, folding his arms across his chest. 

"It's good to see you up and walking, Draco," Lupin smiled brighter. I could only imagine what Malfoy was thinking at this very moment. "Is your father around? I need to speak with him about something." 

Draco's eyes glazed a bit before he replied. 

"No, he's not here. He's got business to take care of." 

"How about your mother?" Lupin raised his eyebrows innocently. I knew he wanted to know if Draco was alone, wondering if he was going to try something again. 

"No, she's not here either." 

"Ah, well," Lupin glanced at Draco's arms. I had to admit- I was curious about what was under the sleeves as well. Sue me. "I'll leave you to your shopping, though I recommend you hurry back home. It's cold out here." 

"Will do, professor." Draco turned his back on us and quickly walked in the direction of Gringotts. 

"It's good to know that almost dying hasn't changed him," I sneered, glaring at Draco's back. I was angry, but not really sure why. 

"Well it's not like he's supposed to feel sorry for himself all the time, Harry. He has to get over it," Lupin said, looking sort of detatched as his eyes followed Draco through the crowd. 

"Oh well," I muttered, shaking my head. 

"I want to contact Narcissa," Lupin made his way through the crowd toward a nearly empty shop. 

Maybe it was just me, but I thought that would be kind of rude to intrude on other people's business like that. But who was I to tell Lupin off for wanting to ruin Malfoy's Christmas? 

Inside the warm store, there was an old woman looking at a flying cat. Sirius was sitting outside the door, waiting for us to hurry back out there like a good dogfather. Er, I mean, Godfather. Right. 

In fact, _all_ of the animals were flying. Hoorah! We were in a flying animal shop! 

"Could we use your fireplace to make a call?" Lupin asked the man who stood behind the counter of the flying animal shop. 

"Must buy something first," the man said with a thick accent. 

"How much is the cheapest animal here?" 

I didn't hear what the shop keeper said, but it must've been cheap enough because Lupin gave him the amount of money needed. The man handed Lupin a cage, and I nearly laughed out loud. 

It was a flying augurey. A goddamned flying bird. Imagine that! 

"Here, Harry. Give it to Hagrid or something," Lupin handed the cage to me before turning his back. "I'll be out in a moment." 

I stared down at the cage Lupin had given me. The yellow bird was staring at me, floating in his cage lazily. This was one weird shop. 

"Wait up, professor," I said, rushing after him. No way was I staying in the room alone. The animals were freaking me out. 

As I entered the room, I saw Lupin had already gotten a hold of Lucius. The older Malfoy glanced at me with an odd expression on his face, then returned his attention to Lupin. 

"My son is in his bedchamber," Lucius snapped at Lupin, but it wasn't full of anger or irritation. It seemed he was almost amused. 

"Draco is in Hogsmeade, Lucius. I just saw him, as did Harry," Lupin replied calmly, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Then bring him back. That is, if you won't bite him and give him your werewolf," Lucius raised his eyebrows innocently. 

"It's a disease, Lucius. I wouldn't bite Draco, even if I didn't like him. You're the one who is the lycanthrope expert, anyway. Aren't you?" Lupin asked. I didn't know what he meant by that comment, but I'd ask what it meant later. 

"Too true," Lucius drawled. "Tell my son to get home soon, then. It's much too cold for ickle Draco." 

"Is Narcissa there?" Lupin changed the subject. It was obvious he was irritated with Lucius beyond reason. 

"I hope you aren't planning a date without asking me first, dear werewolf?" 

"It seems to me she is the one who signs all of your sons papers. I need to speak with her about his schoolwork." 

Without another word, Lucius was gone, and a few minutes later, Narcissa came back. She had tears on her face, and was hysterical. 

"WHERE IS MY SON, REMUS!?" She screamed, but before Lupin could answer, she answered her own question. "He's in Hogsmeade, isn't he? What is he doing there?" 

"Shopping, it looked like," Lupin answered with a shrug. I had to hide my disappointment. For some reaosn, I thought she'd act like Lucius did. 

"Does he look okay? Is he cold? Is he wearing warm clothes? Oh, dear Merlin, is he trying to kill himself again?" 

"Narcissa, please calm down. He looked fine to me. He was wearing a thick cloak and went to the bank after I spoke to him. He's fine," Lupin gave her a reassuring smile. "I need to know if he's been doing well at home." 

"Well, he said he wanted my sister to come over today with her.." Narcissa trailed off, her eyes growing wide. "I know why he's gone. Send him home right now, Remus. Thank you for your help." 

The flames turned from green to yellow again, and Narcissa's head was gone. Lupin frowned and shook his head. 

"Might as well go find him, eh?" he asked lightly before brushing past me to go outside. I stared at the cage in my hands before following him out of the store with a thank-you to the shop keeper. 

Outside, we didn't find Sirius, so we assumed he'd sensed something wasn't going right. Down the street, there was a horseless cart, and not a single person was standing around it. 

"Dementors must be in there," Lupin muttered, shaking his head again. He looked up and down the street before advancing forward. "I found him." 

I looked in the direction, and saw Malfoy leaving a bookstore. Lupin started to call for him, when he looked up at us and took off running down the street. We both started running after him, running into shoppers. Well, Lupin ran into them, and I kind of just yelled, "SORRY!" over my shoulder. I don't think many people cared if I hit them over though, not to sound big-headed or anything. 

We saw him run into the public fire building, and when we got there, Snuffles was standing beside the door. When we got in, Malfoy was looking back at us as he got into a fireplace and was gone. 

"Well, as long as he's going home," Lupin sighed, shaking his head. "Let's finish shopping and go back to the castle." 

I could tell Lupin felt lousy about something. He looked so..defeated. Snuffles could tell, also, but since he's a dog, he couldn't ask right now. Quietly, we went back out into the streets of Hogsmeade and continued our Christmas Shopping Adventure. 

**||----------**----------||**

"Have fun," Sirius said, and gave me a hug. "Happy Christmas. We'll celebrate when you get back, shant we?" 

"Shant?" Lupin asked from his spot at his desk. We were standing in his office, which was adjacent to the classroom, where I was with Ron, ready to go to his house for the next few days. Lupin was still sour about the day before in Hogsmeade, which ended with Sirius/Snuffles being kicked out of a shop because he was 'looking like a mutt'. 

"You can celebrate as well, Moony," Sirius grinned at his friend, who had a ghost of a smile on his face. Sirius' grin faded. "What's _wrong_ with you?" 

"Something Lucius said that got to me yesterday," Lupin waved off the question, took his feet off his desk, and sat upright. "Have fun, Harry. You know I don't want you to go, but I'm not your Godfather, so I can't not let you go." 

"I'll take care of him," Ron grinned, slugging my arm lightly. "Mum wouldn't let anyone touch him without making sure he wouldn't get hurt. We'll be alright." 

Lupin pursed his lips and turned his attention back to a stack of parchment that needed to be graded. Sirius sighed and gave me an apologetic shrug. 

"He's depressed about something. I'll talk to him. You have fun and not worry about anything except Christmas. I promise we'll celebrate when you get back," Sirius looked like he'd add more, but he closed his mouth and forced another smile. Now something was bothering him. I wanted to know what it was, too! "Go on, now. Molly must be getting a little concerned about you two now." 

"Okay. I'll see you in a few days, then," I frowned at Sirius, and glanced at Lupin again. He was scratching at one spot on the parchment. His other hand was shaking, as if he were trying hard not to cry. 

"Happy Christmas, Harry," Sirius gently pushed me toward the fireplace. He noticed what Lupin was doing, too. It was sort of concerning. 

"Happy Christmas," Ron and I said at the same time before I picked up my bag and went into the fireplace. 

I ended up in the Weasley's living room. Everyone's head turned in my direction (how embarrassing) and they all grinned. 

"HARRY!" the twins cried together and raced to glomp me. Ron came through the fireplace at this moment, and we all went crashing to the ground, laughing. 

"George, Fred!" Mrs. Weasley shook her head as the twins fought to get off of me. Ron rolled over onto his side and pushed himself up off the ground. I sat up and stared at the family in front of me. "Hello, Harry! Get up and give me a hug!" 

I got to my feet and was immediately enveloped into a hug. The twins joined in before we all pulled apart. I couldn't help but grin. 

"Hullo, Harry," Hermione said from beside Ginny on the couch. I guess I wasn't good enough for her to stand up, wink wink. "I didn't think Professor Lupin would let you come." 

I shrugged. "He wanted me to keep Snuffles busy, because he's grading papers and things. Dumbledore convinced him to let me come. Hullo, Ginny." 

Ginny blushed but smiled back. It always got me why she was the only person who wouldn't talk to me, but whatever. 

Bill and Charlie were sitting on the floor in front of the couch, playing a game of chess. It looked like they were both killing each other. 

"We'd look up -" 

"-but we're stuck -" 

"-so hullo Harry -" 

"-we'll talk to you in a moment," Bill finished, moving his bishop to take Charlie's knight. 

They acted too much like the twins. 

"We will have guests arriving soon," Mr. Weasley said, entering the kitchen. He turned his attention to me and smiled. "Harry! It's so good to see you. We wondered if Dumbledore would let you come or not. Come, come, you must help me with something I bought in a muggle shop.." 

"Arthur!" 

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley," I smiled at her politely, making my way toward her husband. "I don't mind." 

"I didn't know what it was, Harry," Hermione said from the couch with a frown. "I don't know if you would. It's worth a try, though." 

I made my way into the kitchen, and found Mr. Weasley already sitting at the table. In his hand was the oddest thing I'd ever seen. I moved closer to try and see it, and he held it out to me. 

"It looks heavy, but it's quite light," he said as I picked it up. I turned it over in my hands and squinted down at it. 

"What is it?" Ron asked, coming to stand behind me. 

"I know what it is," I murmured, running my fingers over it. "It's a sword hilt." 

"See, that's what I thought, too," Mr. Weasley took it out of my hands to hold up the carved metal. "But look at the meticulous design. It looks like jewels went in here," he pointed at empty sockets around the hilt. "It's much too light to be a sword hilt." 

"Maybe a dagger," I said, then shook my head. "No. Gryffindor's sword hilt looks like that." 

Mr. Weasley looked up at me, his eyes wide. "Have you _seen_ it?" 

"Er," I glanced at Ron, then nodded. "Yes. It's in Dumbledore's office." 

I stared down at the black hilt. It was bare, which probably meant that jewels or something went on it, but had long since been destroyed or looted. 

"Where did you say you got this?" I looked up at Ron's father. It was odd to see something that looked like Gryffindor's sword, considering I'd pulled the sword from the Sorting Hat. 

"I bought it in a muggle shop in London this afternoon," he answered with a frown. "The man who sold it to me said he had found it in a trash bin and nobody could tell what it was. He was about to throw it out when I saw it, and I wanted to see how muggles designed their fighting equipment." 

Hermione entered the kitchen and stared down at the hilt distastefully. "Honestly!" 

I looked up at Hermione. "What?" 

"It's a bit of twisted metal! Boys," she shook her head, and turned to leave. 

"Hey, wait," Ron said, grabbing her wrist and bringing her back. "What's that look like to you?" 

"A bit of twisted metal." 

"What colour?" 

"It's silver," Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron. "What are you getting at?" 

"It's magical," I breathed, taking the hilt from Mr. Weasley again. "Muggles and muggle-borns can't see it." 

"See _what_?" Hermione huffed, folding her arms across her chest. 

"It's a hilt of a sword. A magical sword." 

There was a knock on the kitchen door, then it opened and a few adults walked in. Mr. Weasley smiled at them, but pushed me away slightly, muttering, "get that out of here. Don't let them see." 

I nodded and turned with Ron and made my way into the living room again. Charlie and Bill were still playing chess, but it looked like they started over. 

"Let's hide it up in my room," Ron said. I nodded and picked up my bag of clothes before following Ron upstairs to his room. 

Hermione followed us up the steps to the last (is it the last?) floor, where Ron's room was located. We got inside his room, and Hermione pounced on me. 

"What's going on? Did Lupin really want you to keep Sirius busy?" 

"I dunno," I shrugged, setting my bag down on Ron's rickety bed. "Lupin said he didn't want me to come. I don't know why." 

"Do you think something's wrong?" Hermione was almost bursting with questions. I wondered what was going on in that little head of hers. 

"Well, the professors _have_ been acting strange.." 

"What are they doing? Who?" 

I glanced at Ron, who shrugged, and pulled open one of his dresser drawers. He was starting to change into his Christmas robes. Or some shit. 

"Snape's acting suspicious. Just yesterday I saw him outside," I paused to be dramatic. Hermione was inching closer, beyond curious. "Er, well, he was outside rolling around in the rain. Honestly! It looked like he was dancing!" 

"Harry!" she hit my arm, "be serious!" 

"Okay, okay," I grinned and shrugged. "No one is acting weird." 

Just then the door opened and George stuck his head into the room. 

"Mum said get your arses downstairs," George said, then glanced at Hermione. "I suppose you are going up to Ginny's room?" 

Hermione nodded and quietly excused herself from the room, pushing past George gently. He moved aside for her, then came inside the room with Ron and I, shutting the door behind him. 

"Percy's been at work more than usual, and coming home a huge mess. You didn't see him when you two were in the kitchen with dad. He came home from the office, handed us the evening paper, and left again. He's not coming back until New Year's Day, he said." 

"Hell, he's not staying for Christmas?" Ron shook his head before slowly walking toward his door. "Something's going on, isn't it, Harry? Do you know anything?" 

I thought about Lupin, and how upset he'd been about me leaving the castle. How depressed he'd been this afternoon. 

"Nothing." 

"Okay. Let's just get downstairs and enjoy this party. Weasley style," George winked before skipping out of the room. I smiled and followed Ron out of his bedroom to join the party. 

**||----------**----------||**

The next morning I was up and sitting on the couch with Ron and Hermione, while the other Weasley's were sitting around the tree. It was huge, almost ten feet tall, with thick branches reaching out three or four feet from the trunk (near the bottom). Large ornaments and lots of tinsel hung on the branches, with fireflies (real enchanted ones) buzzing around inside, lighting up the inside. 

Just as we were to get started, the fire in the fireplace lit green and Professor Lupin entered the house. Immediately behind him was Percy Weasley. 

"Oi, hullo professor," Percy said quickly, moving around him. "Not to be rude, but a huge mess at the Ministry. Must get more clothes for the week. Hi mum, hullo Harry, good day to you Hermione," and with that, he ran up the rickety stairs toward his bedroom. 

Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband, then stood up, reaching out to Lupin, who stepped back and shook his head. 

"I need Harry," he said, looking in my direction. "Now. Get your things, you're coming back to the castle." 

"Why?" I stood up from the couch, defensive. "It's Christmas! Let me stay, please?" 

"No, now." 

"Why?!" I demanded again, stepping closer to him. Even though he was my professor, he was sort of like a father. A really bitchy, bossy one. "Let me at least open my gifts first!" 

"Harry," Lupin glanced around the room at all the heads turned in his direction. He looked back at me, and I knew I pissed him off. Slowly, I got up from the couch and made my way toward the staircase. 

"Remus!" Mr. Weasley barked at Lupin as I made my way up the stairs. Hermione and Ron stayed back to hear the news. Afterall, there had to be a reason why Lupin picked me up today. 

I was worried. Lupin was really pissed off about something, moreso than the day before. And he came on Christmas morning to take me back to the castle. That wasn't normal, or like him at all. It made him very..very out of character, really. 

Once I got my bag of mostly clean clothes, I stood at the foot of the stairs, staring into the living room. Fred and George were inching toward the pile of presents, itching to get at them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were speaking with Lupin quietly in the kitchen. Hermione stood at the couch, holding her duffle bag. It reminded me of something. 

"Hey, 'Mione, why didn't you spend Christmas with your parents?" 

Something passed her face before she shrugged and forced a smile. "I told them I wanted to spend Christmas here this year. They didn't seem to notice." 

I opened my mouth to ask a question when Lupin came back in. "Ron, Hermione, you're to come with us until school starts back up again." 

Ron raised his eyebrows at me, and all I could do was shrug back. Hermione didn't say anything; just followed as we walked to the fireplace. 

"What about the presents?" Ron asked, turning back to his mother, who was standing beside the couch now, with tears in her eyes. 

"You'll come back later this afternoon. Not to worry," Lupin grabbed a handfull of Floo Powder and threw it into the fireplace. "You can have your gifts later. Much more to worry about right this moment. Come, now. HOGWARTS!" 

I followed after Lupin without saying anything to Ron or Hermione. Lupin was pissed at _me_ of all people. Erm, that was a stuck up thing to think... 

"HOGWARTS!" I yelled, and closed my eyes tightly. Within seconds, I found myself standing in the Staff Room. I glanced around, stepped out of the fireplace, and sat my bag on the stone floor. I dusted myself off the best I could before taking a good look around the room. 

All of my professors were sitting around the table. Lupin was pushing his chair in beside Sirius, who was drumming his fingers imaptiently. McGonagall and Hagrid sat at the far end of the long table, with Sprout and Flitwick beside them. Snape sat at the head of the table with Dumbledore, staring at me with distaste. Argh. 

"Sit down, Harry," Dumbledore waved to a group of four empty seats. Hermione came in through the fireplace as I made my way to the chairs. 

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, looking suspiciously at everyone. She followed me to the seats as Ron and his father came into the room. Snape made a sound in his throat, but didn't say any words. 

"Ah, Arthur," Dumbledore forced a smile and waved to the remaining two chairs. "Sit down, please." 

Snape turned his gaze in my direction, staring at me a moment before returning his attention to Dumbledore. I narrowed my eyes at him. 

"There were three attacks about an hour ago on three magic buildings," Dumbledore began, and held up his hand as someone tried to interject. I think it was Sprout. "Azkaban, Beauxbatons, and St. Mungo's had been attacked simotaneously." 

There was a moment of silence before Sirius spoke up. "What do you need us to do, sir?" 

"You, Sirius, will need to continue your investigations," Dumbledore said, and Sirius nodded, understanding the comment. "Severus, Arthur, I will give you your instructions later," the two adults nodded in reply. "Minerva, Remus, I must ask you two to assist the Aurors momentarily, after I give you the full details of what has happened." 

I wondered why I was in the room. Why tell a kid your plans? Pfft. 

"Yes, sir," said McGonagall in reply, and Lupin nodded, keeping his gaze on Dumbledore the whole time. 

"Dementors have escaped Azkaban. Not all of them have, mind you, as some still have sense in good and evil. But most are gone. Death Eater's have escaped both Azkaban and St. Mungo's. When Minister Fudge went back to find the files of all the Death Eater's who were housed in the two locations, they were all missing. Some were destroyed; other's were stolen." 

"Crap," Sirius muttered, and I silently agreed. 

"Exactly," Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. "Patients in St. Mungo's were killed and critically injured. One person was Neville Longbottom, who had been visiting his parents," my heart wrenched. Neville had been part of that attack. Damnit. "The remaining students and Headmaster at Beauxbatons were all killed. I'm in the process of splitting the remaining students with Durmstrang." 

"We're going to have more students?" Hermione asked, and I imagined a light bulb lighting up. "With the French?" 

"Possibly," Dumbledore nodded and steepled his fingers together, leaning foward on the desk. Snape made a sound in his throat but remained silent still. "Viktor Krum had been killed in the Beauxbaton attack. He'd been delivering Quidditch Supplies for Christmas gifts, and had been in the wrong place at the wrong time," both Hermione and Ron gasped. "One last person has died that we knew." 

Sirius and Lupin glanced at each other and leaned forward in their chairs, as did the rest of us. Well, Hermione had her face buried in her hands, but still. 

"Peter Pettigrew was killed in the Azkaban release of Death Eaters." 

I stared in shock at Dumbledore. I didn't believe any of it. Wormtail was dead. That was a good thing, but with Wormtail dead, couldn't Minister Fudge take back his promise to keep Sirius innocent? 

"Albus, the kids -" 

"Ah, Arthur," Dumbledore smiled tiredly. "They are old enough to hear this. But I needed them here for other reasons as well. Harry, with these three attacks, it is important to know where you will be in these next months. Had you been planning on going to the Dursley's?" 

I chortled. "No! Of course not. I've been making plans with Sirius to move in down the street from him." 

"I think not!" Lupin jumped to his feet, banging his fist on the table. "Not with these attacks!" 

"Remus," Sirius said, growling low in his throat. It was myth that if you stayed in your lycanthrope or animagi form for long periods of time, you took on your animal features while you were human. With the growl Sirius made, I was beginning to believe in the myth. 

"I agree," Snape said coolly, staring down the table at me. Maybe he was trying to be seductive, but who knows. That low, sexy voice, on an ugly git like him? I laugh at that. Ha. Ha. Ha. 

"I disagree," Sirius argued, glaring at Snape. "He'll be legal." 

"I agree with Sirius," Hermione said, defending me. I smiled in her direction. "But maybe we can have other arrangements. Since Minister Fudge isn't allowing Harry to live with Sirius, why don't Ron and I move in with Harry?" 

"NO!" McGonagall cried out, and I grimaced. This was _my_ decision to begin with; not theirs. 

"Wait, wait, Minerva. Let's hear Hermione's thought," Dumbledore smiled at the professor, keeping his hand raised in the air a moment. 

"Well, everyone is either afraid Harry will be killed if he isn't watched by everyone, or everyone will be killed watching him. Ron and I don't feel that way at all. Nobody will have to know that we are with Harry." 

"And get a secret keeper?" Ron asked, looking slightly alarmed. "Why would we need to do that?" 

"Here's the deal," Sirius said, raising his hands to shut anyone up that tried to argue. "This is between Harry, Dumbledore, and myself. We'll finish this another time." 

"Very well," Dumbledore sighed. "Then I suppose this is the end of our meeting. Minister, if you would kindly check on Mrs. Malfoy?" 

"Of course, Headmaster," Fudge bowed toward the fireplace and quickly left. Erm, he left without even saying bye to anyone. Prick. 

"And Harry, you may return to -" 

"Ah, uh, Headmaster," Snape rose from his chair, avoiding my curious stare. "I need Potter for the afternoon." 

"It's Christmas," Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at Snape. 

"I need help with something," Snape glared pointedly at Hermione and Ron, who acted as though they were busy with something else, pretending to mutter to each other while picking at invisible lint. 

"Very well, but only for a few hours," Dumbledore nodded to the rest of the people in the room. "Everyone else must go to their designated areas." 

I followed Snape out of the Staff Room and into the corridor, where he turned to me, his cloak billowing out. Again, it'd be sexy if it weren't.._him_. "I've been searching for days for a plant near Hagrid's hut. You must find it for me." 

Fuck that. 

"Why? What do you need it for?" 

"A potion for Mr. Malfoy. Now, really Potter, it's none of your business. You will get," Snape hesitated, then thought a moment. "Two points to Gryffindor if you help." 

"Two?!" I almost laughed, only I knew he was serious. 

"Either that or thirty from Gryffindor for not helping. Your choice." 

Snape turned and began walking toward the dungeon. I weighed my choices then began running after him. I guess two points were better than negative thirty. 

**||----------**----------||**

_"Auntie?" 3-Year-Old Harry Potter asked, tugging on the hem of his aunt's dress. She pushed him away with her left foot as she lifted Dudley into her arms. _

"What do you want, boy?" she asked indignantly. 

"I'm hungwy," Harry stared up at his aunt with big green eyes. Aunt Petunia looked down at him and lightly smacked his mouth. 

"I'm busy with Duddles. Go to your room." 

Harry began to pout, hoping she would change her mind about feeding him. When she payed no attention to him, his eyes watered. Aunt Petunia sat Dudley on the floor, who grinned hungrily at Harry. 

"Thut up, Hawwy," said Dudley and he slapped Harry on the mouth, harder than Aunt Petunia had. 

"Now, now, Duddles. Don't hit your cousin," she said, but glared down at Harry anyway. 

Harry backed away from Dudley and ran out of the kitchen and up the staircase. Dudley followed Harry upstairs, and on the landing, he tackled Harry. 

"NO!" Harry screamed at him, trying to push his fat cousin off of his own thin body. "GET AWAY, DUDLEY!" 

Trying to get to his feet, Harry slid out from underneath Dudley's fat and stuggled to stand. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked down the staircase, which was a long way down for a toddler. Aparently, Dudley didn't notice, since he took this moment as defeat from Harry and shoved him down the stairs. Harry went tumbling down, landing in a crying heap on the floor. 

"Duddles, do be careful," Uncle Vernon said from the den, glancing briefly at the crying 3-year-old on the bottom of the stairs. "Wait until you're older, son." 

**||----------**----------||**

Sorry this took so long to finish and get out to you guys. I've had a really awful past month. 

The last bit with Dudley will have some meaning later on in either this story or the 2nd one, not sure which yet. 

Chapter Four is complete. I'll post it as soon as I get some reviews :) 

Thanks to all my readers. I'll thank you in chapter four, or once my computer is fixed, because I can only have 1 internet explorer window open, and it's 11:30 PM, and I want to cuddle with my 3 year old cousin. I love you guys so much! 


	5. Truth

****

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Draco, the professors, or other characters in this story except Cerise, and the merpeople and future characters that I made up. 

**Disclaimer 2:** Anything recognizable belongs to JKR. This idea came to me while talking to Shinks and reading the only GW story I've ever read, and it was fucking great. *huggles Duo and sticks tongue out at Jean-Claude and Dray* 

**Disclaimer 3:**Reese belongs to Shinks. Harley belongs to Shinks. Teely belongs to Shinks. I don't own anything except the plot. Er, guess that's it for now. 

This chapter is written in **Draco's Point of View**. 

******NEW!!!:** This chapter will be the last POV chapters. The reason for this is it's hard to write in POV, and I LOVE this story too much to let it die. Starting at chapter five, more action and more plot switching to get you guys involved more. Mwahahaha.. 

Harry is very OOC in his thoughts, but when he speaks, I think he's very in character. Nobody knows what Harry's thinking, so technically, he can't be OOC. Can he? 

I'm not sure about Draco, though. JKR doesn't spend enough time on him to know. So, I think Draco is hardly OOC in this. 

**WARNING:** This story contains strong language (especially Draco's POV chaps) and to avoid hurt feelings, I've put this warning up. =) 

Thanks to my beta's for beta-ing most of this chapter! 

* * *

****

Chapter Four 

Truth

Solitude. 

I loved being alone, ever since I was a little kid. It was the only time I ever felt relaxed. I don't know why I liked it better. Maybe it was because when I was younger, Father would hit me constantly, trying to teach me 'The Way Of The Malfoy Family's Way Of Life, Okay?' rules. That's probably why I hardly talked to my father these days. He hated me, and I hated him. This family is like a fucking love triangle. 

At home, my fortress was my bedroom. 

Lucify let me choose the room I wanted when I had made Quidditch Seeker for the Slytherins. He hardly knows the secrets Malfoy Manor holds. The rooms, the staircases, the gardens-he doesn't care. He tends to business constantly, eats, and sleeps. I knew his routine by heart. 

My bedroom, aside from the hanging flags and stone walls, had a small, hidden room. Nobody knows about it. I think the house elves might, but they've never cleaned in there, so I don't know. 

It's hidden behind a large flag with a spell for keeping boggarts out. Almost every room in the house has the flag, except for the house elf's chambers. I think father wants them to freak out all the time. 

I found it when I was twelve when father had thrown me into the wall. I had slid down the stone, and felt a spot in the stone that seemed to have eroded away. Of course, for a while I didn't look at it, because I told myself it was a head injury that caused me to imagine an eroded section of a wall _inside_ the manor. When I did look at it, it was a hole to put your fingers in and open, like a muggle airplane seatbelt. But, I won't explain the airplane details. That's a story for another day. 

A large desk sat in the corner of the adjacent room, and was full of old school papers and books. Father never cared much about my grades, but I had. I kept all of my papers since my elementary schooling, where I had first learned to read and write. I took pride in the papers, to my utter embarrassment. 

Beside the desk was a grandfather clock that I had taken from a guest room down the hall. It'd been in my family as long as the flags had been, and worth enough gold to buy Gringotts, but I don't think father noticed it's disappearance. 

In the corner of the room, I had layed out large comforters that mother wanted to get rid of. I took them from the trash pile a few years ago, and used some cleaning spells, then layed them out on top of each other in the corner. It was really comfortable. 

So, this is where I was sitting now. My left arm sleeve was rolled up above the elbow, and in my right hand, I held a sharp razor blade. 

My body was on fire with guilt. I'd never felt so awful in my life. And the only thing I could think of was getting rid of the guilt by cutting my arms. I _had_ to. Mother was upset with me. Cerise was upset at my father, who would be upset with me about something soon. The Death Eaters were ashamed of me. You-Know-Who couldn't bare to think of me as his heir's father. 

I laughed. That sounded hilarious. His heir's father. 

Fuck, I was losing it. 

I pressed the blade to a clean part of my arm. My eyes closed as the skin started to cut, and then I heard something. 

"Draco?" 

"_Shit_," I hissed to myself, shoving the blade under a pillow and unrolling my sleeve. Mother was in my main bedroom. 

"Harley, go find my son," I heard Mother say. 

Quickly, I hurried to the door, and peered into the room, pulling the flag back slightly to see. Mother's back was facing me, and she was beside the washroom door. 

I moved quickly and silently to the large window overlooking the estate. I pushed the latch open and leaned outside. A cat was sitting on the sill, and I grabbed her, then turned into the room. 

"Oh, hi mother," I said, petting my orange and black cat. Mother spun around and faced me, her hand over her heart. 

"Don't _do_ that, Draco," She hissed. I grinned at her, but it was forced. 

Shit, she'd almost caught me. 

"I wanted to speak with you about your son," Mother came over and sat beside me on the cushioned window sill. I drew my legs up, and sat indian-style, with my cat, Reese, in my lap. She purred, thankful for being noticed. "Has a name been chosen?" 

I nodded. "Father's _master_ chose a name." 

A look passed over mother's face that I couldn't quite catch before she smiled. "Well, what is it?" 

"Hunter," I answered, and felt myself smile a little. A true smile. "His name is Hunter." 

"Well, Hunter will need a father. He's to be born in March, and you graduate in a year and a half. Lucius has asked me to see to it that you get some basic knowledge of children, and your idea of where your child will live while you are in your last year at Hogwarts." 

Shiiiiiit. 

"Oh," Was all I could say. 

"And if you'd like, I could get your Aunt Tate here tomorrow with her baby, and she can show you how to treat a baby." 

"Mother," I licked my lips. She was staring at me, almost pleading with her eyes. "If I feel up to it, I'd like that." 

"Of course," She smiled and stood up. "I'm sure you have work to do for school." 

"Yeah," I lied. I could tell she was uncomfortable in the room with me. 

She strode gracefully to the door, and stopped beside it, with her hand on the handle. She turned to me and opened her mouth. "Draco?" I tilted my head questioningly. "I-" She hesitated. "I'm sorry you felt like this was your only way out." 

The door shut quietly behind her. I stared at the closed door before rolling the sleeves up to my elbows and staring at my scarred and fucked up arms. Fresh cuts covered old cuts and scars. Long, deep gashes trailed from my wrists to my elbows. Smaller cuts crossed those. 

That's when I realized how serious this was. 

I, Draco Malfoy, was a cutter, and soon-to-be father. 

**----------*----------**

Hogsmeade is _always_ packed this time every year. A week and a half before Christmas was just asking for an accident in the streets. Everyone is shoving each other, trying to get the best deals before the real last minute shopping begins, the night before Christmas Eve. 

Yes, I'd gone to Hogsmeade for Christmas Shopping weeks ago, when the third years and up went. Seventh years got to hang about wherever they wished without having to be watched by the professors. Bully for us. 

Due to recent events (and the fact that Aunt Tate was at the Manor, waiting for me with her newborn baby) I decided to run away from home for the day and endulge myself in fucking shopping. All I wanted were a few things that wouldn't take very long, but the crowds were horrendous and I wanted to stall as much as possible. 

Mother and Father didn't know I was here. They wouldn't have let me go today, because of Aunt Tate, and probably because they didn't trust me by myself. 

What damage could a seventeen year old do to himself in public a week before Christmas? My parents are such morons. 

Right now, I was standing in front of a store, my winter robes pulled tightly around my body. I could've worn a beanie or something, but that'd look ghetto. Yes, I said ghetto. 

The store was a home store. Furniture, kitchen stuff, bedroom necessities. In the front window was a large display of a bed with a thick comforter ontop. The comforter was dark blue with lace around the edges. It looked really comfortable. 

"..it's beautiful! But look how much it costs," I heard someone moan from behind me. 

Beside the bed was a price chart. 500 Galleons for the comforter. I winced at the price and looked back a Gringotts. Cerise really needed something thick, and this was perfect. Shit. Decisions, decisions. 

"Oh, hello Draco." 

I tensed. I knew who it was, and I honestly didn't want to see him. 

"Hullo Professor," I sighed and turned around. My arms were folded in front of my chest, trying to keep myself warm. Professor Lupin's eyes flicked down to my arms for a second before he smiled. 

"It's good to see you up and walking, Draco," He said, his smile warm. Beside him, Potter was looking uncomfortable, petting a black dog beside him nervously. I glared at him. "Is your father around? I need to speak with him about something." 

I knew he was lying. He didn't want to speak with my father. Oh well-what could I do about it? 

"No, he's not here. He's got business to take care of." 

"How about your mother?" 

Fucking persistant son of a bitch. "No, she's not here either." I didn't have to give him a reason why mother wasn't here. 

"Ah, well," Lupin's eyes were staring at my arms again. I sighed and he looked back up at my face. "I'll leave you to your shopping, though I recommend you hurry back home. It's cold out here." 

Why the hell did he care? 

"Will do, professor," I said flippantly before turning my back on him and walking in the direction of Gringotts. 

"It's good to know almost dying hasn't changed him," I heard Potter say before I was out of eavesdroping range. Who the hell cares what he thinks, anyway? 

  


After my trip to Gringotts, I bought the comforter and wandered into the nearest book store. I don't know why I was going here or what I was looking for. Maybe I was looking for warmth. Or maybe I was mentally thinking about getting a book. Hell, I don't know. 

I waded through the crowds of adults (come on; no kid is going to willingly go into a book store on Christmas break) and came up to a section that was occupied by a pregnant woman and her husband. They were leafing through a book, pointing at pictures. 

"That's true," The woman said after reading a section of the large book. "Let's get this book." 

I glanced at the cover before they walked away to pay for the book. I turned back to the books and stared at them, starting to feel apprehensive. Quickly, I grabbed a copy of the book the couple had taken and hurried to the counter. 

"Is this all?" The man asked, eyeing me suspiciously. 

"That's all my mother wanted," I answered, the lie coming out rushed. I felt my face heat slightly. 

"Okay," The man shrugged and put the book in a bag. I handed him the money and grabbed the bag and hurried out of the cramped book store and into the cold weather. 

I saw Professor Lupin eyeing me curiously across the street. I must've looked upset and shaky, because he began to cross the street toward me. I shook my head and, clutching my bags, hurried to the public fireplaces to go back home. The book in my left hand hit my leg and I hurried, almost ran, through the crowd, ignoring Professor Lupin's voice. 

"Draco!" He continued to call until I lost him in the crowd. 

I ran into the building with the public fireplaces, paid my fee, and threw Floo Powder into the fire. 

"Malfoy Manor!" I said, looking behind me quickly. I saw Lupin coming through the door, Potter behind him. I locked eyes with Potty and stared at him, unknowingly clutching my book to my chest. 

I found myself in my father's study, and it was empty. I didn't want to take any chances and have him find me in here, so I left the room. The corridor was thankfully empty as well, and I ran the length of the hallway to the end, and threw myself into my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I slid down to the floor and stared at the book in my lap. 

The book, only worth a few galleons, and weighed hardly anything, was going to make me go insane. 

_Parenting: The Idiots Guide To Kids_ by Cham O. Mile. 

Shit. 

**----------*----------***

Every year, my mother and father threw two parties for Christmas. The first was for me. They invited friends, cousins, and distant relatives. All of Slytherin House tried to make it, but sometimes they never showed up. Tonight, everyone from the House was there, goggling at me. 

The second party was for my parents. Their old friends from school, parents, and close relatives showed up so they could brag about how great their life is compared to everyone else. I never was allowed at that one, but this year I'd probably be sitting to the left of Uncle Marius, who had been, by far, the most accomplished of our family. I guess I was a close second for some reason. 

Christmas was never a joyful year for me. Last year, I spent it at Hogwarts, trying to catch up on some classwork. Same as the year before. The year before that, I was here, at home, but in bed, sick. That's how it's always been. And now, it was my first Christmas as a father. 

I shuddered, staring around the ballroom. Everyone was dressed in brilliant colored robes. They were quite expensive looking compared to mine. Or maybe mine was just cheap. 

I didn't want to wear a robe, nor did I listen to my father when he told me I had to. Instead, I pulled on black dress pants and a long sleeved, dark green turtleneck sweater. My arms hurt too much to lift up and pretty my hair, so I left it the way it was-hanging in my eyes. 

Cerise stood off with my mother. God, I felt so bad for her. 

She had been taken from her family seventh months ago. No-they had thrown her out, and my father had taken her in. And then they had me sleep with her. I don't even remember that night very well-they tried to make me forget it by fogging the memory. I remembered some of it, though. 

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" Pansy Parkinson asked me, gently holding my right arm. I glared at her, but she must've thought it was a playful glare, because she giggled. "You must be. Do you want to go outside and talk?" 

Professor Snape entered the ballroom, his best black cloak billowing out as he strode into the room, looking important. A black shaggy dog entered at his heels. It was the one I'd seen in Hogsmeade with Professor Lupin and Potter a few days ago. Maybe it was Snape's dog-whatever, who cares? 

"Lucius," Snape shook my father's hand, and barely glanced at me. The dog, on the other hand, was a few feet from me, and tilting it's head up at me questioningly. It was kinda cute. "Minister Fudge wanted the dog to be taken from the school, away from the small children," Snape sneered, though it wasn't an angry one. It was his lying voice. I raised me eyebrow at him, but he kept his gaze on my father, who was standing to the left of me. "Do you wish for him to go outside?" 

"Of course," Father waved his hand, indicating the outer hallway. "Throw the mutt outside. I trust you remember where the back door is?" 

It was far too cold for the dog to be outside, but I didn't say anything. Pansy had begun to dig her fingers into my arm, trying to get my attention. 

"What?" I asked, irritated. She was staring at Cerise, her eyes narrowed. 

"Who _is_ that, Draco? Where is her husband? How dare she show up in your home pregnant and without proper attire," Pansy hissed. She went on for a moment before I held up my free hand. 

"Look, Pansy," I sighed. Should I tell her the truth? She was looking pretty pissed. "Why don't you go get me some of that punch your mother brought over? I'm thirsty." 

"It has alcohol in it," Pansy said in a warning tone. I stared at her dumbfoundedly. Sighing, she nodded. "But it is a special occasion, Drakie. I'll be right back." 

"Don't hurry yourself," I said after her retreating back. 

She didn't seem to hear me. Pity. 

I put my hands back in my pockets and let my gaze wander. Blaise Zabini was sitting on the far side of the crowded room with his back against the wall. His arms were folded across his chest, and he looked like he felt out of place. 

"Hey," I said, striding over to him, clenching my hands. He was in my year, and my _friend_, and he looked so miserable. 

"Hi," He pushed himself off the wall and dropped his arms. His eyes were suddenly studying the floor, refusing to meet mine. 

"Are you having fun?" I asked lightly, trying to start conversation. If he was mad at me, it didn't look like it. Maybe he was just tired. 

Yeah, that's it. 

Unfortunately, I seem to have a knack for being wrong sometimes. His eyes flashed angrily as he glared at me. 

"What the hell is your problem, Malfoy?" He hissed, his voice too low to cause anyone to look over at us. "You're acting as if it's nothing!" 

"It _is_ nothing," I lied, shrugging at him. I was a good liar. "It was a one time thing, Blaise. It's okay." 

Maybe I sounded sincere, because his expression faltered, then softened before he pulled me into a hug. Awkwardly, I hugged him back, gently patting his back with my sore arms. 

"You're a fucking bastard, Malfoy," Blaise pulled back and wiped hastily at his eyes. I'd never seen him cry before. Shit. I really had this affect on everyone I met these days. "Don't do it again." 

Nervously, I shoved my hands into my pockets and touched the blade in the left one. I smiled at him. "Don't worry, I won't." 

Pansy came back over and hastily shoved a cup of punch into my hand. "Drink it before my mother sees you. She'll get angry. Your father wants you over there, by the way." 

I drank the small amount of punch and handed the empty paper cup back to her before nodding at Blaise and Pansy. Slowly, I walked back to father. This was the part of the night I was dreading the most. God damn. 

"Yes, father?" I asked politely, standing beside him like a good little boy. The man he was talking to-Edward Shaw, a Death Eater-eyed me curiously before excusing himself. 

"It is time. Go sit next to Uncle Marius at the table. Have the shapeshifter next to you as well," Lucify waved me off. 

Goody. I was the second most important person at the ball this year. Hoorah hoorah. 

I walked over to Cerise and my mother, who were talking quietly, and bowed to them both. Mother smiled and Cerise let a small giggle escape her lips. I grabbed her right hand, and kissed it gently on the knuckles. 

"Father wants us to sit down," I said, and began leading her to the table. Across the room, I saw Pansy staring at me with questioning eyes. 

"Where is your ring?" Cerise suddenly asked, stopping midway to the table. 

"Shit," I reached into my pockets, but only felt the blade in the left side. "I left it in my room." I looked back at my father. He was telling everyone to sit around the large circular tables in the room. 

"You better go get it," Cerise looked over at father too. "Quickly. Hurry." 

I bolted from the room. I slid into the main corridor, where I nearly ran into Snape. 

"Hey!" 

"Sorry, professor. I forgot my ring," I said quickly before running down the corridor toward the staircase. 

I started up the stairs when I remembered the dog outside, and ran back down and to the backdoor. The dog was standing beside it, and seemed thankful when I let it in. 

"Follow me," I grabbed the scruff of his neck and began running up the stairs again. He easily ran up them, waiting for me at the top. 

It's always nice to know you're so out of shape you can't keep up with a dog. 

I rushed into my room, and the dog followed me. He jumped onto my bed and stood there a minute, staring at me with his head tilted. I hardly noticed. 

"Stay in here and shut up," I told him before grabbing the chain holding my ring from the bureau and clutching it. "I'll be back later." 

A minute later, I was downstairs, breathing heavily, but sitting next to my Cerise with the ring on my finger. Father hadn't noticed my absence, and even if he did, he wouldn't have said anything. Not until the guests left, anyway. 

"Attention!" He called. He looked almost…giddy? Is that an appropriate word for the way he looked? "I have a wonderful announcement to make!" 

"Were you finally fired?!" Someone asked from the back of the room, and everyone laughed. Father liked his job-but then, so did everyone else. He had the easiest job in the Ministry. 

"No," Lucify smiled and shook his head. He waved his hand in the general direction of Cerise and myself. Under the table, where our fingers were interlocked, Cerise tightened her grip. "My son has been married!" 

A stunned silence filled the room. I glanced from table to table, to see relatives' eyes bulging out, to schoolmates' angry and scared expressions. Good, the bastards deserve it. 

"W-what did you say?" Uncle Marius asked from beside me. He was clutching the table as if he would die if he let it go. 

"Draco and Cerise are married," Father repeated with a sigh. All hell broke loose then. 

"HOW DARE YOU!" Uncle Marius screamed, on his feet in a second. 

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" Mrs. Parkinson's voice screeched across the room. "HE WAS SUPPOSED TO MARRY MY DAUGHTER!" 

Father stared around at everyone while people began yelling and throwing insults. People were getting ready to pack up and leave. Holy shit, I didn't think people would react like this. 

"QUIET!" Father screamed, and everyone grew still. "Let me explain! Please, Mr. Hart, sit down. All of you, please, in your seats?" He asked. Maybe it was the please, because everyone sulked back to their chairs. Uncle Marius remained standing, furious. "Now, Draco will be graduating in six months. He is young, yes, I know," Father held up his hand to silence everyone. Here came the big finale. The excuse he'd been using on my mother and I for the past seven months. I found it a bunch of bullcrap. "I have been diagnosed with a terminal illness. No way of curing it yet," He paused while everyone got teary eyed. Bullshit. "I've wanted my son to have a child of his own someday. I wanted to be there when he made a family. I couldn't wait." 

"Oh, Lucius!" Someone across the room began to cry. I turned my head to my mother. Her lips were pursed, but she didn't say anything, nor did she move to study anyone in the room. 

"I'm so sorry, Narcissa," Someone else began to wail. Fuck, I'm gonna leave if this keeps going on. 

"I chose his wife because she had been disowned from her own family, and every person deserves a family," Lucify continued. I wanted to strangle him, that bastard. 

Everyone began to murmur. I knew what they were asking: "Is that the shapeshifter?" 

"Come on," I muttered and stood up, clutching Cerise's hand. "Let's get the hell out of here." 

Ignoring my father's suddenly angry tone as he called us back inside the ballroom, Cerise and I walked into the corridor, hand in hand. I felt better being with her-but I didn't love her. 

No. 

I liked someone else. That was beside the point, however. 

In my bedroom, the black dog was asleep on my bed. He raised his head to me when I entered, and tilted his head in a questioning gesture. I ignored him, however, and got on my knees and pulled a bag out from underneath my bed. 

"I was in Hogsmeade the other day. I got caught by a professor of mine and he called my parents," I grimaced, then smiled. "I want to give this to you now, because it's freezing and you need it." 

"Draco…" She said softly, and reached for the bag. Before she could open it, I pushed her gently toward the door. 

"Get out of here, Cerise," I sighed, shaking my head. "Go rest." 

Maybe she wanted me to kiss her goodnight or something, because she hesitated before leaving my bedroom. Or maybe it was the dirty dog on my bed. Hell, if there was a dirty dog sitting in suggestive positions on _her_ bed... 

…I won't get into it. 

"Well," I sighed and sat down onto my bed beside the dog. "This night sucks. I hate my father's Christmas Parties. Not to mention he talks a lot of crap for someone who is such an idiot," The dog tilted his head at me, raising his ear's slightly. "You don't want to know him, dog. You don't," I shook my head and threw myself onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. I could feel the small amount of alcohol from that punch just now kicking in. "You're lucky you're a dog. At least you don't have to deal with this kind of crap like I do," I looked at the black dog. I was beginning to feel tired. "Who do you belong to? Snape doesn't seem like a dog person." 

Someone knocked on the door. Before I could say anything, expecting my mother there, the door swung open, and Snape stood there. 

"Good evening, Draco. Congratulations," He said, sneering at me. I didn't know if he was mad or not. "I see you've met Professor Lupin's _pet_," He spat the last word like it was meant to be hurtful. The dog beside me growled. "I knew he'd be in here. Well, anyway, it seems you are better. I'm going to take this mutt back to Hogwarts." 

"Okay professor." 

Snape stared at me from the doorway for a long moment before he sighed. 

"I'll see you when term begins again." 

The black dog got off the bed without being told and trotted across the room, his nails clicking across the stone floor. By now, I was going to stand up from my bed and get ready to sleep, but a thought struck me. 

"Professor Snape?" I asked meekly. He turned around, as did the dog, to face me. "Who…found...me?" 

"Blaise did." 

Oh hell. 

"Was he upset?" 

"Very." 

"Oh." 

"Does your wife know?" 

I looked up at him, startled. "Cerise? No. Why?" 

"Don't tell her." 

"I wasn't going to, professor." 

Snape nodded, then turned and left, shutting the door behind the dog. So, that was it. What a lovely conversation. And now I felt guiltier than before. 

----------------------------------------- 

Some of these scenes are repeating what happened in chapter 3, only this is Dray's POV. And I know this is confusing, but that's because chapter 3 and this one are going on at the same time. Which is why I've stopped the POV thing. Too confuzzling. 

HEY! REMEMBER THE PARTY SCENE! (no more hints as to what'll happen later..) 

Thanks to all the people who reviewed the last two chapters! 

ArdenRiddle: Thanks for the two reviews :) And thanks for putting me on your favorites! I love you forever now. 

treachery89: I posted I posted! Thanks for your review. It made me feel all special because I'm not sure how this story is turning out in everyone's eyes.. 

CrystalHorse72: Nobody is updating lately. It's pissing me off more than the fact that I can't find any good slash anymore. *glares at FFN and Schnoogle* I wish people would just..write great fics. It's getting irritating! Anyway, thanks for your wonderful, erm, note ;) 

Allycat: This story will get so much better after the next chapter. Now that I've experienced what Draco will be feeling and going through when he gets back to school, it's gonna be kick ass! 

pearlgirl: Thanks for all the reviews you gave me for this and my other stories. I got so many from you! I'm glad you liked them. 

Plasticky: Draco angsty fics are the best. This is only getting started. I've decided that I'm much like Draco in this story; his position right now, with the suicide thing, where his parents and classmates act different toward him. I'm going through what he's going through this very moment. It's weird, really, but easy for me to get my angst out :) And Snape in mud puddles..well, I won't say it's sexy, but hey..it's cute! 

Spaz: Yes, three stories with a lot of plot you've already seen since the prologue. It'll be really great, you'll see. 

Accidental Human Contact: I like your name :) Yay means yes, Nay means no (get it? Y/N)..And yes, I know this story was posted under Roachwithacrunch. That was me, trying out an experiment. That's my old name..I only use this one because that one used to have some shitty Blink 182 fics... 

Me: Yes, this chapter was the 2nd half of chapter 2, but you know.. 

DMnHP: Mwahahahahahaha...you're so cute...I don't know why I said that..I think I'm bi...I had the weirdest dream..um..okay..I'm gay...sorry..I'll shut up now.. 


	6. Terrified

**Quickie:** I would absolutely love any Draco and/or Harry fanart's that you have either drawn or come across over the internet. I'm busily searching ArtisticAlley.org, but have yet to come up with much of anything. If you have a link for great, over the top slash (or non slash/separate pics of the boys) fanarts, PLEASE send it to me, either through email- patheticinvader@netscape.net- or AIM- patheticinvader- or Yahoo!IM- remuslupin_black- or MSN Messenger- digitalnfreaky@hotmail.com. Thank you guys soo much! I love you! 

Also- I am SO sorry it took 5 MONTHS to get this out! I'm SOOOO sorry! Time freakin flies, and I've had so many personal crap going on that messed me up for a period of time. I'm very very sorry. But expect this to be updated more often, and a novel-length 'Living In Your Letters' AND Sequel! Plus, 2 sequels to this (quite possibly) to make it a trilogy. 

||*----------*----------*||

There weren't any tears on Narcissa Malfoy's face, nor in her eyes, as she stared up at her baby boy. He wasn't really a baby anymore, but he looked so hurt and upset, it made him look childish. In a cute sort of way, of course. 

"And please, _please_ talk to someone if you feel like that again, honey," she whispered, pulling her son into an awkward hug. He patted her back, then pulled away. 

"It was a one time thing, mum, " Draco said, with a coy smile on his face. Inside, he felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to have a train hit him. 

"Everyone feels like that sometimes, Draco. Just don't give into the pain," Narcissa pulled back and stared at her son with dry eyes. Draco stared down at her, being taller than his mother, and nodded. "Now, hurry. Headmaster wants to speak with you before the train arrives with students." 

"Yes, mother," Draco started to walk toward the large cauldron of Floo Powder when Narcissa made a noise in her throat, causing him to turn around. She handed an envelope to her son, with silver wax dripped onto the flap. An M was in the middle of the wax, making it look official. 

"That's from your father. He's sorry he couldn't be here to see you off. He had other business to tend to," Narcissa sighed quietly and ushered Draco toward the fireplace. "The House-Elves have already taken your baggage to the castle." 

"I know, mother," Draco made one more attempt at getting to the cauldron to quickly get away from his mother. She was irritating him. 

"And Draco?" he sighed loudly. He wasn't going to get out of her sight. "You need physical and mental ability for this baby. Please, _please_ think of your child." 

_Ah, the kid_, Draco thought, and nodded to his mother. Or rather, to his own thoughts, remembering why he was in this position in the first place. 

"I-" she hesitated before pushing his shoulder gently forward. "I'll see you in a few months, then." 

Thinking of nothing that would make him feel better to say to her, Draco took the white powder and threw it into the fireplace before she said anything more. Within seconds of calling out "Hogwarts!", Draco found himself lying on the ground in the Headmaster's office. _Bloody hell_ was all Draco could think of as he dusted himself off. 

"Hello, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore smiled gently at the blond Slytherin, who readjusted his robes to fit properly. "Sit down, please." 

Draco hesitantly walked over to the desk, where brochures were sitting in a neat stack. He sat down and tried to remember how he decided this meeting would go. All he could think of, however, was how he wouldn't be here right now if Zabini hadn't found him. Draco made a mental note to kick his arse later. 

"These brochures were sent to me the day after your attempt. I recommend you look through them and choose a program that best fits you," Dumbledore said, using his hand to point to the stack. Draco glanced at the one on top and frowned deeply. 

"I don't need a psychologist." 

"I'm not saying you do. But we all need someone to talk to once in a while. I do firmly suggest, however, that you go to a session. Just one, to see how you like it." 

Many things could have been said at that moment to the elderly man, but instead Draco nodded. He didn't really have to go if his father had his way. It was good to be amongst the highest nobles. 

"And, of course, you may speak to Professor Snape, seeing as how he is your Head of House," Dumbledore reached over and gave his phoenix a pat on the head before returning his attention to the matter at hand. "How was your vacation?" 

The only answer was a casual shrug; nothing else. 

Dumbledore sighed softly and poured himself a cup of tea, stirring it slowly. "I have seen many teenagers waste their lives like this, Draco. You do not want to be part of that. You can still get out of this." 

"Sir?" Draco looked up, anger flashing in his gray eyes. "You don't know, so don't tell me what I can change." 

The elderly man pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes slightly, but let the remark pass. Draco was hunched in the chair across from his desk, his hands shoved into his pockets with a pout on his face. This teenager, Dumbledore decided, was possibly worse than his father was at this age. Attitude wise, of course. 

"You may go back to your House now, Mr. Malfoy." 

Draco didn't nod or say a word as he stood up and left the office. Dumbledore followed the blond with his eyes, noting that Draco had left the pamphlets sitting in a neat stack where it had been the whole time. He rose from his chair and moved toward the fireplace to contact Lucius Malfoy. 

In the corridor, Draco fought the urge to roll up his sleeves and look at the damage he'd caused weeks before. He could hear students talking at the other end of the hallway, and he knew he was done for. The students of Hogwarts were back. 

Quickly and quietly, he began walking toward the dungeons. His plan in action was to get to his dormitory before anyone could spot him and spend the rest of the afternoon alone. 

**||**----------**----------**||**

Draco was observing his scars in the confines of his curtains in his dormitory when he heard the boys in his year coming toward the room. Quickly, he shoved the sleeves down his arms and pulled his open Potions book onto his lap. A moment later, the door burst open, and all immediate conversation had stopped. There was some rummaging, then a voice from the other side of the curtains. 

"Malfoy?" 

"What do you want?" Draco answered in what he hoped sounded like his usual drawl. Couldn't disappoint his fellow classmates. 

"Just checkin if you were there," the curtains were pulled back, revealing Blaise Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. 

"No, I'm not here," Draco replied, staring dumfoundedly at Zabini. How dare he talk to Draco Malfoy after what he had done? 

"I see," Zabini turned to face the other two in the room. "Since Malfoy isn't here, I say we go through his trunk and steal his trousers." 

"Boxers make lovely hats!" Crabbe said, and it made Draco sick to see the manchild had been serious. 

"Get the hell out of here," Draco spat, getting up on his knees and pulling the curtains around his bed again. "You all make me sick." 

He heard the three move out of the room, leaving the door open. Probably to make sure he wasn't going to try suicide again. Ha ha. 

Sighing, Draco slammed the book shut and climbed out of his bed. He had to face them, and the sooner he did, the sooner everyone would get back to admiring him. That's all that mattered anyway, right? 

In the Common Room, most conversation stopped as the Slytherins looked up at Draco. He looked like he always did, with his shoulders back, walking straight, as if he _had_ to look good. But there was still something about him. 

Oh, right. He tried to kill himself. 

"Hey, Malfoy!" a few people said to him, and he threw them dirty looks, continuing out of the Common Room. He almost made it out of there before Professor Snape entered. 

Startled, Draco took a step back, then instantly regretted it. He looked afraid of the professor; something that he'd never been. That made him uneasy. 

"Hello, Mister Malfoy," Snape started to pass Draco without another glance. 

Draco watched him enter the Common Room, his jaw set, with his fists clenched at the sides. Something had happened, that much was apparent. 

"Get everyone down here," the teacher growled at a few first years who were setting up a game of chess. They both looked up at their Head-of-House warily, neither moving from their spot. Either they were terrified of the Potions Master, or they just didn't want to go. "I said, " Snape kicked the chess board, sending the board across the room, the pieces scattered everywhere, "get everyone down here. NOW!" 

The first years jumped to their feet immediately, muttering something about intolerable teachers, ruining their fun, and climbed up the steps to get the rest of the House into the room. Everyone else who had been standing about inched forward to form a semi circle around Snape, who stood clenching and unclenching his fists, unaware of the students surrounding him. 

"Professor?" 

Snape whirled around, facing Blaise with furious eyes. Blaise, however, was unaware of this, and remained standing in his position, staring at his professor. 

"What is it, Zabini?" Snape sneered, his fists clenching at his sides again. He squeezed his jaw tight, obviously furious about something that had happened. 

"What happened?" 

Snape ignored this and turned his attention to the rest of the students, which were beginning to pile into the Common Room, some sitting on the black leather couches and chairs, some sitting in front of the fire or standing beside the fireplace, while others, like Draco, stood in a semi-circle around Snape. 

"There has been a breach in security, " Snape hissed, staring from one student to the next, perhaps trying to determine who was behind it all. His eyes found Draco's, and they stared at each other longer than was needed, before Snape tore his eyes away. "Go to the Great Hall immediately. You do not need to go to your trunks. In fact, everything you are holding with you now, in your hands and in your pockets, leave behind. You won't need them for the time. Go. Get out of my sight." 

Snape watched everyone file out of the Common Room, terribly confused. Or, perhaps they were pretending to be confused? Snape had no way of telling, and neither did Draco. He had a good guess, however, about who breached Hogwarts security, but not why. Or maybe he was wrong; he'd been wrong in the past. 

"Mister Malfoy, I believe you were told to leave my sight, " Snape hissed, waving Draco off to the corridor. Crabbe and Goyle waited patiently for him at the doorway, but Draco wasn't quite ready yet. 

"Was it my father?" he asked bravely, stepping forward, hoping that Snape would see this as concern rather than curiousity. In reality, he didn't care if his father broke into the castle. It had nothing to do with Draco himself. 

"Get out, Malfoy, " Snape growled, narrowing his eyes, his eyes black with fury. Of course, Snape wouldn't indulge any information to Draco, a mere child in his eyes. But it didn't mean anything, because Draco would find out sooner or later. He always did. 

Turning on his heel, Draco walked straight-backed through the door into the corridor, where Snape locked the House from the inside, keeping himself in the Common Room, alone. Crabbe and Goyle fell into step behind Draco, seemingly unnoticed by their 'friend', their 'ally' and 'leader'. Draco's head was bent in thought, his hands in his pockets, his soft blond hair falling over his forhead and nearly in his eyes. This went by unnoticed, as well. 

He didn't honestly care about the breach. The worst that would happen was he'd be sent back home, with his father and mother. And with Cerise. Going home had it's advantages, somewhat. What he did care about, however, was how he was going to manage the rest of the school year in Slytherin House. Those pity-filled looks, the curious glances whenever he walked into a room, the look of utmost disgust from his housemates that had never been in a position like Draco's, and never would be. But the most he wouldn't be able to stand didn't come from the Slytherins, but the Gryffindors. The bloody, good-doing Gryffindors would never have it as awful as Draco, he figured. Their parents were _obviously_ good people, to have produced those irritating, muggle-loving children. So what if he had money? He rubbed it in enough, even to the Slytherins who didn't have tons of money. Money wasn't an issue, nor of much importance to Draco, at least not lately. No, at the moment, what he wanted more than anything was happiness. To be happy like he was the year prior. 

Before he could think about anything else, something hit him in the back of the head. He heard chortling before bursts of laughter. Angrily, Draco turned around, coming face to face with Harry Potter. Behind him, Weasel was laughing hysterically with the other Gryffindors. The only people _not_ laughing in the corridor was Potter, Granger, and of course, Draco. Crabbe and Goyle studied Draco for a moment before continuing into the Great Hall. 

"What was that for, Potter?" Draco asked, bending over and picking up what was thrown at him. It was a gold watch. 

"Sorry, Malfoy. Ron was just -" 

"Excuse me?" Draco sneered, weighing the watch in his hand. It had to be real gold, to weigh like that. No way could Potter afford that. Because, well, look at who his friends are. Plus, he smirked smuggly, he was a muggle-loving, poor orphan. "What did you say to me?" 

Harry straightened up, fixing a cold stare on Draco. Suddenly, he looked older than he was, as if he'd grown up much more than Draco had even realized the past few weeks and months. He'd been pushed into a corner, or was tempted to say something he'd regret. 

"Give me my watch." 

"I think I'll keep it for myself, Potter," Draco said, and automatically rolled up his sleeve to put the watch on. Only until the watch clasped together did he realize he showed a glimpse of his scars to the Gryffindor. 

"Give it," Harry said, holding out his hand expectantly. His expression didn't change, but he _had_ to have seen the scars. Who wouldn't notice? 

"Make me." 

"You are the most immature prat -" 

"GIVE IT BACK, MALFOY!" Ron said, coming beside Harry, his laughter ceasing. Draco didn't even glance at him. 

"This is between me and Malfoy, Ron. Go away," Harry said between gritted teeth, suddenly annoyed by the red head. Draco briefly wondered what had happened that caused him to be bitter, then pushed the thought away. 

Weasel glared but turned around and walked away. Granger chased after him, leaving the other Gryffindors to wander about, trying to get a glimpse of Potter and Draco. 

"Give it back," Harry repeated himself, his hand still out in front of Draco. Draco looked down at the hand, then back up at Harry. 

"Potter, you're worthless." 

"I didn't try to kill myself." 

A strained silence began to build between them. Harry had his hand out expectantly, his gaze cold and hard. Draco had his sleeve halfway up, showing the watch but nothing else, a blank expression on his face. 

"You have no right to speak of that, " Draco managed to drawl, his words spoken with both anger, and, to Harry's surprise, confusion. 

"I can say and think whatever I want, Malfoy. You do it constantly. And if I was in your position, you'd rub it in a hundred times worse. Now, give me my watch, before I curse the f -" 

"Problem, gentlemen?" A voice asked from behind the two, who suddenly realized they were alone in the corridor. Professor Lupin, one of Draco's least favorite teachers (as he was a Gryffindor, mudblood-loving coward of a werewolf), watched the two with an amused look. 

"None, sir," Draco said, rolling down his sleeve and began to walk into the Great Hall, tossing a smirk in Harry's direction. 

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin asked politely, his eyes roaming down to Draco's arm. 

Draco moaned and unclasped the watch, letting it fall to the floor, and continued walking into the Hall. Harry bent down to pick up the watch, and turned to face Lupin. 

"He is insufferable." Harry said flatly, and made his way into the Great Hall as well. Lupin had a small smile on his face as he followed Harry into the Hall, closing the double doors behind him. 

Everyone grew quiet as Dumbledore rose from his chair. The entire room was confused, some were even scared, because their Head-of-Houses weren't in the room, instead locked in their own Houses, for whatever reason. Lupin was scared, Harry could see that, but he also had somewhat of an amused look on his face. Following his gaze, Harry's eyes widened. Sitting underneath the table, either pretending or not, was Sirius, asleep, in his dog form. But before Harry could move forward or tell Ron and Hermione, Dumbledore began to speak. 

"For the remainder of the evening, I must ask you to stay in the Hall with your fellow classmates. I have been informed of a breach in the school's security charms and spells, which must be taken care of immediately. Professors Lupin and Hagrid will remain with you for the evening. Makeshift beds and sleep clothes will be provided later after supper. Games and the such will be put out immediately. Good evening, " Dumbledore pushed his chair into the desk and escaped from the Hall through a door beside the teacher's table. Harry looked up at Lupin, thoroughly confused, as did most of the Hall. 

"How about you visit with Snuffles, and we'll start our own little party with the school?" Lupin asked, trying to be at least a little optimistic, but the happiness was fake and didn't meet his eyes. 

||*----------*----------*||

I'm sorry this was so short. I was in a writer's block for over a month, and then stuff happened (including, as some may have known, attempted suicide on my behalf, among other just-as-serious things in my life). I got this out, hoping to revive my readers and start clean from here on out. 

Plus, I have a new kitten. I need a name for her. Don't say Hermione (my other cat's name is Harry, and the one who ran away in November was Draco). I need something less..psychotic than naming it after HP characters. ^_^ 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the past 5 months: 

Lexi, S. Wing, ArdenRiddle, White Raven, AllyCat, CrystalHorse72, treachery89 


End file.
